ment. The prisoners' denial looked like sheer obstinacy. Nevertheless this denial, and the impression of sincerity which innocence must have made on the priests, at least, accustomed to hear confessions and to interrogate criminals, would have had its weight, had not Maunert's wife committed a very common mistake a mistake to which we are all liable, and which daily experience seems incapable of eradicatingnamely, that of attributing motives to the acts of others. Whatever is done, especially when it is in anyway injurious to us, we insist on assigning to its true motive. Now the motive which really actuates a human being, is almost inevitably hidden from us; we never altogether know it, we are not often thoroughly aware of our own motives; yet in this state of blank ignorance, we guess at what the motive may probably be no sooner is that guess seen to have a tolerable consistency with the circumstances known to us, than we at once give it entire faith, and treat it as an established fact. "It must be so," we say; and we proceed to act as if it were so. In the present case the motives which may have actuated Kirchmeier are numerous, but could not be known to another. Had Maunert's wife contented herself with saying: "Kirchmeier has sworn falsely. Why? I do not know; how should I know why?" her assertion would have been forcible; but unhappily she could not rest satisfied without guess ing at his motives, and stated that what she guessed was the fact. Kirchmeier, she said, had sworn against them, because Maunert owed him some money for shaving, and had not made him a new-year's present! To an irritated and feeble female intellect this doubtless seemed an adequate motive; at any rate it was the motive she guessed, and, having guessed it, she believed it. On the public mind this accusation produced no effect save that of strengthening the prejudice against her family.

It is clear from the concluding words of the priest's report, that a misgiving had entered his mind respecting the guilt of this family.

"My heart beats sorely," he says, "at the obstinacy of these people (who otherwise seem to have lived honestly though in poor circumstances), if they are guilty; but still more at their fate if they are innocent,-if Kirchmeier has been mistaken, or if, like other men, he has been capable of having been led astray."

Up to this time a plausible explanation had been propounded, and of course unhesitatingly accepted, as to the mode in which the cash-box had been transferred from Schönleben's dwelling to that of Maunert. As we do not sufficiently understand the localities to form a correct idea of this explanation, we shall not trouble the reader with it. Enough that at this juncture it was proved by professional witnesses that the said explanation was physically absurd. The cash-box could not have been so transferred. Moreover, the plank which had been found recently taken up and laid down again in Schönleben's dwelling, and which was one of the indications against him, now turned out to have been removed by his predecessor in that dwelling, who testified thereto.

The court felt that its case was becoming weaker. Nevertheless it had no doubt of the guilt of the Maunerts; and, since priestly exhortation had failed, it was determined to try the effect of flogging on the wife. She must confess! She must learn that denials were useless, and that those who set themselves in opposition to the law should taste its full severities. It was thus decreed that she should be floggedand in case her bodily health did not permit her suffering such chastisement, she was to be imprisoned alone on bread and water in the darkest dungeon of the prison. Should this fail, the court would proceed to the last extremity-the Rack. That could not fail. Abundant experience on criminals of all kinds proved that, however long they might persist in denying their guilt, however fruitless might be imprisonment, flogging, and exhortation, the test of torture was almost infallible. How many miserable victims had confessed crimes of which

they were innocent, under the solicitation of the thumbscrew and boot, no one knew, although all knew that some innocent men had done 80. The rack had consequently been gradually falling into disuse; but it was not yet condemned as a horror, it was not yet banished from the code of civilised nations; and the Nürnberg court of justice resolved to apply it to the Maunerts.

At this period Schönleben, still a prisoner, requested to be heard. He stated to the court that it now occurred to him, and he was ready to swear to it, if necessary, that the spangle-maker, Beutner, had on the occasion of assisting him with the load of wood, stood some time at the door of the counting-house, and, on their leaving the house together, had said, "Your old one has a heap of money up there; couldn't we ease him of a little?"-a proposition which he, Schönleben, rejected with indignation. To this he added, that three days ago he had dreamt that the cash-box had been found, and that he himself had seen it under a heap of wood in Beutner's house, whereupon, as he naïvely remarked, "he had felt great joy, and requested the magistrates to release him from prison to the sound

of music."

The effect of this deposition was once more to direct inquiry towards Beutner. The Maunerts stoutly denied their guilt; Schönleben denied his; and it was thought that perhaps Beutner could be brought to confess. That none of them were guilty never seems to have been suspected. All the indications against Beutner were carefully collected together. The very dream of Schönleben, instead of being treated as a dream, natural enough in the circumstances, and after so long an imprisonment in a damp dismal cell, was accepted as a clue. Beutner's house was thoroughly searched; but then, where no cashbox could be found, none of course was found. In vain was every plank torn up, and every corner ransacked: rats, dust, and rubbish in abundance were there, but no cash-box, no trace of money.

Beutner was then examined, but denied ever having said anything about their easing Sterbenk of some

of his money. On being confronted with Schönleben, he persisted in this denial, and solemnly declared, like the rest, that his innocence must sooner or later come to light; and on that conviction he relied with confidence. As if to strengthen this statement, and as if no sooner was one clue caught up than the next moment it was to be broken, the very day after Beutner's examination, a smith, in whose service lived one of the witnesses called to prove Beutner's alibi, informed the court that this workman had confessed to him, the smith, that he had concealed the truth on his examination; that in reality Beutner did not go home on the night of the 29th-30th at eleven o'clock, but at two in the morning, at which hour the workman accompanied him. Why had he concealed this, and stated what he knew to be false? Because he was afraid of the punishment which would have fallen on him for having been drinking in the beer-shop past the hour permitted by the police! Hereupon all Beutner's witnesses who had been previously examined on the alibi, were once more examined, and they one and all confessed that it was two o'clock, not eleven, when Beutner and they left the beer-shop; they all confessed that it was only fear of the police regulations being enforced against them, which had made them conceal the fact on their first examination. There was a not unnatural suspicion excited that these witnesses had told the truth at first, and that Beutner had found some means of corrupting them, so as to induce this retractation; but they persisted in this second statement, and were not only unanimous, but spoke out with the greatest precision and confidence as to the fact. Nobody believed them, and the strictest inquiry was made into every conceivable circumstance that could possibly throw light on their testimony; but the upshot was that the strongest point against Beutner-namely, his supposed presence near the spot at the assumed period when the robbery was committed-was, reluctantly, but inevitably, allowed to sink into utter obscurity.

The locksmith, Hölzel, who for

years had been employed by Sterbenk, was now interrogated. Hölzel had three years before repaired the cash-box in question, and he deposed that, according to his recollection, it weighed one hundred and twenty pounds, was stripped with green, painted with white flowers, and had the lock ornamented as the barber Kirchmeier had stated. But Hölzel added two details which, singularly enough, seem to have made no impression at the time, although they afterwards became of great importance. He stated that on the 30th of June the day the robbery was discovered-Kirchmeier had informed him of the robbery at Sterbenk's, adding that he had seen a cash-box somewhere. On being asked where, and in whose house he had seen it, Kirchmeier could give no satisfactory answer. Nevertheless, ten days after wards, Kirchmeier privately informed him that he had seen the cash-box in Maunert's house on the 30th June, but since then had not set eyes on it. Hölzel urged him to communicate this to Sterbenk, which for the first time he then did.

This was all confirmed by Kirchmeier. "He distinctly remembered every circumstance, and remembered moreover that Maunert, on his entrance, seemed somewhat confused, had moved rapidly away from the table, while his wife managed to keep the barber at the door till the cash

box was hidden. He also distinctly remembered that the cash-box was such as the one described; a box with plaster cast medallions he does not remember to have seen."

Meanwhile the medical report respecting the capability of Frau Maunert to support a flogging was registered. It stated that she was quite capable of bearing some stripes; and there can be no doubt that this cruelty and indignity would have been suffered by her, as it had been already by her husband, had not nature given an emphatic denial to the medical evidence, by carrying her off. On the 28th September, after an imprisonment of more than three months, death beneficently put an end to her sufferings. She died in great agony, bodily and mental. The priest who alone stood beside her

during the last hours, declared that in the whole of his fifteen years' experience he had never known a sadder case. The cell in which she was imprisoned was underground, shut off from the light of the sun and the breath of heaven; as she herself was shut off from the embraces of her children, and the anxious love of her husband. He also sat alone in darkness, with the knowledge of his innocence, and the knowledge that all men believed him to be guilty. The priest in gentle persuasive accents urged the dying woman to free her soul from its load by confession; her constant reply was, that she had nothing to confess; she and her family were innocent. "God will bring our innocence to light; you will see that one day." And as the final preparations for her end were being made, she said, "God has been with me, and called to me: Fear not I am beside thee; I go joyfully to Him, for I go at once to heaven." The priest took his leave, and shortly afterwards all was over for her in this world.

As a criminal she had died; as a criminal she was buried. In silence and darkness she was laid in the earth without rites of sepulture. At any rate she was free now from all torture of mind or body.

No

Three victims still remained. thing had as yet been pronounced as to their fate. They had everything to fear; nothing to hope. By one of those coincidences which act powerfully on the public mind, ever prone as the public is to build conjectural romances out of insignificant and unrelated facts, on the very day of Frau Maunert's death the advocate Faulwetter announced that his house had been burglariously entered. It was a small garden-house, outside the town, where on account of quiet he was in the habit of working over his briefs. This had been violently entered early in the morning, but nothing was stolen. On his bureau an inkstand had been upset, and the ink had flooded the papers lying there, some of which were torn, and several moved from their places.

Such was the fact. Now for the interpretation. Faulwetter was one of the counsel employed in the Ster

benk case, and, as he had several times had the papers of the procèsverbal with him, to look over,-a fact notorious in Nürnberg-it was clear that some yet undetected participator in the robbery had broken into the house, hoping to carry off the papers, and so destroy evidence which might be brought against him, or at any rate throw fresh difficul ties in the way of justice. No sooner was this hypothesis started than it gained, of course, instant credit; and it set men speculating as to who the yet undetected accomplice, or accomplices, might be. The power of guessing was illimitable; and we have seen that the worthy Nürnbergers were not backward in suspicion; but with all their efforts they could get at no clue.

Even when the mystery was finally cleared up, the burglary at Faulwetter's remained inexplicable; and not until some time afterwards, when Faulwetter was murdered by one of his exasperated clients, was even a tolerable guess as to the motive of the burglary arrived at.

Thus, day after day, suspicion rose and fell; fresh lights glimmered through the obscurity, but after leading men a strange dance through the morass, they were all recognised as will-o'-wisps; and real steady daylight could nowhere penetrate. Weeks rolled on. Everything had been done to extort a confession, but the hardened obstinacy of the prisoners baffled every effort. Had not one of them died impenitent, carrying her bold assurances of innocence to the grave? What could now be hoped from such criminals? Nothing, except that they would yield to the persuasion of the rack. This, as we have seen, had been already threatened, and even resolved on; but with a natural reluctance, it had hitherto been left untried. Although the age had gradually learned a little more humanity-learned that torture was a terrible means of investigation, only to be employed in extreme cases, and therefore the court was slow in proceeding to such extremities-yet the age had not arrived at the conviction that torture was an infamy and a folly.

Fortunately for all concerned, this

last iniquity was avoided. On the 30th October, exactly four weeks after the burial of Frau Maunert, a new turn was given to the inquiry. Indeed, before that there had been rumours which grew more and more serious, and which directed suspicion to quite other persons than the accused. But the court would not be led away from its present course, by following new and uncertain tracks. It was felt that the whole city was implicated that justice herself was in peril, unless the truth could be made evident. At length rumour became so loud, that one of the judges sent for the locksmith's apprentice, Wagner, and in his private house took down the following deposition:

On Sunday the 17th October, a friend of his told him at the beershop, that a little while before he, Wagner, arrived there, one of Meister Berger's workmen, named the Berliner, had spoken very abusively of Meister Gösser, the locksmith, and of Blösel, his man; boldly telling the latter that people suspected him of being concerned in the Sterbenk robbery. Blösel had quietly accepted all the reproaches, insults, and vituperation of the Berliner, and sat, as if dumb, in the presence of his antagonist. The suspicion to which the Berliner alluded was founded on the fact that Blösel and Gösser had bought themselves silver watches, were dressed in new suits from top to toe, and seemed to be altogether in much more prosperous circumstances than formerly. Wagner further deposed that on the Monday after that scene, Meister Gösser had come to the beer-shop, and endeavoured to clear his man from the imputations which had been cast on him, declaring that he had received money from his relations in Saxony, which would account for his prosperous condition.

On further questioning, Wagner deposed that about a week ago a fellow-workman of his had remarked: "Blösel is cutting a figure! He has had a new coat made. He stood treat to me in princely style: two bottles of wine at one place: and whenever we have been together he has insisted on paying for both."

Had anything else been observed? Yes, this. Since the scene at the beer-shop, Blösel had not been seen with his watch, which previously he had always carried. Moreover, Blösel had always seemed very poor; came to the beer-shop in a jacket. Now he was very differently dressed. Wagner would say, and all his comrades said so too, that if Blösel's conscience was clear he wouldn't have put up with the Berliner's language. The investigation now rapidly changed its course. The prisoners were left alone, while this new clue was eagerly followed up. But they were only left alone after a final effort had been made with Schönleben. The court seemed more than ever desirous to extort a confession, now that the affair threatened to take a new turn. The idea of the prisoners being innocent, after all, and of having suffered so long and so much unjustly, was of course extremely painful, and was rejected as long as possible. Hence the redoubled eager ness to get a confession, which should justify the court in its own eyes and in the eyes of men. But Schönleben would confess nothing; could confess nothing; they might do what they pleased with him, he knew nothing of the robbery. Baffled, the court asked him if he had perhaps any suspicion of one of the locksmiths who had ever done work for Sterbenk -and then suddenly asked him Which of these men ?—and if either, on what grounds? A light seemed suddenly to break in upon Schönleben. He at once named Gösser. But his grounds were not very strong. He said that Gösser was very poor, being unable to pay three gulden (six shillings) for a window ornament he had bought; that he had repaired the house-door lock; and that just before his (Schönleben's) arrest, Gösser had met him in the street, and asked if he would not soon be ordered to make a new cash-box?

Other evidence now poured in fast. Evidence trivial for the most part, but helping in its cumulative effect to strengthen the suspicions against Gösser and his man. The strongest indication of all was that Gösser, who was notoriously in very straitened circumstances, had applied for a pass

port to Dresden-"intending to visit his relatives there." Instead of going to Dresden, he went to prison; he, his wife, and man. His house had been searched, and facts discovered which admitted of no denial; as the accused at once saw, for they confessed all.

Christian Gottlieb Gösser, thirtythree years of age, was born in Dresden, where his father, a shoemaker, had honestly earned a livelihood, but had died not long before the arrest of his son. Gösser came to Nürnberg in 1789, and settled there as locksmith, and lived there with his wife and two children. Business was very slack with him; and it was only by serious money sacrifices that he obtained admission into the guild of locksmiths and the citizenship of Nürnberg. He thus began in debt; and was not the man to clear himself by energetic and punctual business habits. He appears to have been one of those negatively good men who keep from sin so long as temptation does not press heavily on them; who reject the idea of a crime with shuddering at first, and each time with less and less horror, till, having perfectly familiarised themselves with it, they end by accepting it as a necessity. He confessed that he had often had occasion to enter Sterbenk's house, and had become aware of the facility with which the counting-house door might be opened by any experienced hand. He was often in want of the very necessaries of life; his family would not, or could not, assist him; and he began to despair of ever honestly making his way. There was a box full of money; the half of it, nay the third of it, would help him out of all difficulties.

This idea haunted him. It grew more and more fascinating every hour. At length, on the night of the 29th-30th June, towards two o'clock, he proceeded to the house, opened the door, which he found to have been left unbolted, took out the windowpane, opened the counting-house door, and entered without having made the least noise. He was now in presence of the coveted cash-box; all was silent; all was darkness; but he knew the localities, and stealthily tried to force the cash-box open. But this