<1>

<1>

A SEQUEL TO 'THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE'

Es giebt eine Reihe idealischer Begebenheiten, die der
Wirklichkeit parallel lauft. Selten fallen sie zusammen. Menschen
und Zufalle modificeren gewohnlich die idealische Begebenheit, so
dass sie unvollkommem erscheint, und ihre Folgen gleichfalls
unvollkommen sind. So bei der Reformation; statt des
Protestantismus kam das Lutherthum hervor.
There are ideal series of events which run parallel with the
real ones. They rarely coincide. Men and circumstances generally
modify the ideal train of events, so that it seems imperfect, and
its consequences are equally imperfect. Thus with the Reformation;
instead of Protestantism came Lutheranism. --NOVALIS. 

There are few persons, even among the calmest thinkers, who
have not occasionally been startled into a vague yet thrilling
half-credence in the supernatural, by of so
seemingly marvellous a character that, as coincidences,
the intellect has

<1> Upon the original publication of , the
foot-notes now appended were considered unnecessary; but the lapse
of several years since the tragedy upon which the tale is based,
renders it expedient to give them, and also to say a few words in
explanation of the general design. A young girl, , was murdered in the vicinity of New York; and although her
death occasioned an intense and long-enduring excitement, the
mystery attending it had remained unsolved at the period when the
present paper was written and published (November, 1842). Herein,
under pretence of relating the fate of a Parisian , the
author has followed, in minute detail, the essential, while merely
paralleling the inessential, facts of the real murder of Mary
Rogers. Thus all argument upon the fiction is applicable to the
truth; and the investigation of the truth was the object.
 was composed at a distance from
the scene of the atrocity, and with no other means of investigation
than the newspapers afforded. Thus much escaped the writer of
which he could have availed himself had he been upon the spot and
visited the localities. It may not be improper to record,
nevertheless, that the confessions of persons (one of them
the Madame Deluc of the narrative), made, at different periods,
long subsequent to the publication, confirmed, in full, not only
the general conclusion, but absolutely the chief
hypothetical details by which that conclusion was attained.


been unable to receive them. Such sentiments--for the half-
credences of which I speak have never the full force of --such sentiments are seldom thoroughly stifled unless by
reference to the doctrine of chance, or, as it is technically
termed, the Calculus of Probabilities. Now this Calculus is, in
its essence, purely mathematical; and thus we have the anomaly of
the most rigidly exact in science applied to the shadow and
spirituality of the most intangible in speculation.
The extraordinary details which I am now called upon to make
public, will be found to form, as regards sequences of time, the
primary branch of a series of scarcely intelligible , whose secondary or concluding branch will be
recognized by all readers in the late murder of MARY CECILIA
ROGERS, at New York.
When, in an article entitled, , I endeavoured, about a year ago, to depict some very
remarkable features in the mental character of my friend, the
Chevalier C. Auguste Dupin, it did not occur to me that I should
ever resume the subject. This depicting of character constituted
my design; and this design was thoroughly fulfilled in the wild
train of circumstances brought to instance Dupin's idiosyncrasy.
I might have adduced other examples, but I should have proven no
more. Late events, however, in their surprising development, have
startled me into some further details, which will carry with them
the air of extorted confession. Hearing what I have lately heard,
it would be indeed strange should I remain silent in regard to what
I both heard and saw long ago.
Upon the winding up of the tragedy involved in the deaths of
Madame L'Espanaye and her daughter, the Chevalier dismissed the
affair at once from his attention, and relapsed into his old habits
of moody reverie. Prone, at all times, to abstraction, I readily
fell in with his humour; and continuing to occupy our chambers in
the Faubourg Saint Germain, we gave the Future to the winds, and
slumbered tranquillity in the Present, weaving the dull world
around us into dreams.
But these dreams were not altogether uninterrupted. It may
readily be supposed that the part played by my friend, in the drama
at the Rue Morgue, had not failed of its impression upon 
the fancies of the Parisian police. With its emissaries, the name
of Dupin had grown into a household word. The simple character of
those inductions by which he had disentangled the mystery never
having been explained even to the Prefect, or to any other
individual than myself, of course it is not surprising that the
affair was regarded as little less than miraculous, or that the
Chevalier's analytical abilities acquired for him the credit of
intuition. His frankness would have led him to disabuse every
inquirer of such prejudice; but his indolent humour forbade all
further agitation of a topic whose interest to himself had long
ceased. It thus happened that he found himself the cynosure of the
political eyes; and the cases were not few in which attempt was
made to engage his services at the Prefecture. One of the most
remarkable instances was that of the murder of a young girl named
Marie Roget.
This event occurred about two years after the atrocity in the
Rue Morgue. Marie, whose Christian and family name will at once
arrest attention from their resemblance to those of the unfortunate
'cigar-girl', was the only daughter of the widow Estelle Roget.
The father had died during the child's infancy, and from the period
of his death, until within eighteen months before the assassination
which forms the subject of our narrative, the mother and daughter
had dwelt together in the Rue Pavee Saint Andree;<1> Madame there
keeping a , assisted by Marie. Affairs went on thus
until the latter had attained her twenty-second year, when her
great beauty attracted the notice of a perfumer, who occupied one
of the shops in the basement of the Palais Royal, and whose custom
lay chiefly among the desperate adventurers infesting that
neighbourhood. Monsieur Le Blanc<2> was not unaware of the
advantages to be derived from the attendance of the fair Marie in
his perfumery; and his liberal proposals were accepted eagerly by
the girl, although with somewhat more of hesitation by Madame.
The anticipations of the shopkeeper were realized, and his
rooms soon became notorious through the charms of the sprightly . She had been in his employ about a year, when her

<1>Nassau Street.
<2>Anderson.


admirers were thrown into confusion by her sudden disappearance
from the shop. Monsieur Le Blanc was unable to account for her
absence, and Madame Roget was distracted with anxiety and terror.
The public papers immediately took up the theme, and the police
were upon the point of making serious investigations, when, one
morning, after the lapse of a week, Marie, in good health, but with
a somewhat saddened air, made her reappearance at her usual counter
in the perfumery. All inquiry, except that of a private character,
was, of course, immediately hushed. Monsieur Le Blanc professed
total ignorance, as before. Marie, with Madame, replied to all
questions, that the last week had been spent at the house of a
relation in the country. Thus the affair died away, and was
generally forgotten; for the girl, ostensibly to relieve herself
from the impertinence of curiosity, soon bade a final adieu to the
perfumer, and sought the shelter of her mother's residence in the
Rue Pavee Saint Andree.
It was about five months after this return home, that her
friends were alarmed by her sudden disappearance for the second
time. Three days elapsed, and nothing was heard of her. On the
fourth her corpse was found floating in the Seine,<1> near the
shore which is opposite the Quartier of the Rue Saint Andree, and
at a point not very far distant from the secluded neighbourhood of
the Barriere du Roule.<2>
The atrocity of this murder (for it was at once evident that
murder had been committed), the youth and beauty of the victim,
and, above all, her previous notoriety, conspired to produce
intense excitement in the minds of the sensitive Parisians. I can
call to mind no similar occurrence producing so general and intense
an effect. For several weeks, in the discussion of this one
absorbing theme, even the momentous political topics of the day
were forgotten. The Prefect made unusual exertions; and the powers
of the whole Parisian police were, of course, tasked to the utmost
extent.
Upon the first discovery of the corpse, it was not supposed
that the murderer would be able to elude, for more than a very
brief

<1>The Hudson.
<2>Weehawken.


period, the inquisition which was immediately set on foot. It was
not until the expiration of a week that it was deemed necessary to
offer a reward; and even then this reward was limited to a thousand
francs. In the meantime the investigation proceeded with vigour,
if not always with judgment, and numerous individuals were examined
to no purpose; while, owing to the continual absence of all clue to
the mystery, the popular excitement greatly increased. At the end
of the tenth day it was thought advisable to double the sum
originally proposed; and, at length, the second week having elapsed
without leading to any discoveries, and the prejudice which always
exists in Paris against the police having given vent to itself in
several serious , the Prefect took it upon himself to
offer the sum of twenty thousand francs 'for the conviction of the
assassin', or, if more than one should prove to have been
implicated, 'for the conviction of any one of the assassins'. In
the proclamation setting forth this reward, a full pardon was
promised to any accomplice who should come forward in evidence
against his fellow; and to the whole was appended, wherever it
appeared, the private placard of a committee of citizens, offering
ten thousand francs, in addition to the amount proposed by the
Prefecture. The entire reward thus stood at no less than thirty
thousand francs, which will be regarded as an extraordinary sum
when we consider the humble condition of the girl, and the great
frequency, in large cities, of such atrocities as the one
described.
No one doubted now that the mystery of this murder would be
immediately brought to light. But although, in one or two
instances, arrests were made which promised elucidation, yet
nothing was elicited which could implicate the parties suspected;
and they were discharged forthwith. Strange as it may appear, the
third week from the discovery of the body had passed, and passed
without any light being thrown upon the subject, before even a
rumour of the events which had so agitated the public mind reached
the ears of Dupin and myself. Engaged in researches which had
absorbed our whole attention, it had been nearly a month since
either of us had gone abroad, or received a visitor, or more than
glanced at the leading political articles in one of the daily
papers. The first intelligence of the murder was brought us by G----, in person. He called upon us early in the afternoon
of the thirteenth of July 18--, and remained with us until late in
the night. He had been piqued by the failure of all his endeavours
to ferret out the assassins. His reputation--so he said with a
peculiarly Parisian air--was at stake. Even his honour was
concerned. The eyes of the public were upon him; and there was
really no sacrifice which he would not be willing to make for the
development of the mystery. He concluded a somewhat droll speech
with a compliment upon what he was pleased to term the of
Dupin, and made him a direct and certainly a liberal proposition,
the precise nature of which I do not feel myself at liberty to
disclose, but which has no bearing upon the proper subject of my
narrative.
The compliment my friend rebutted as best he could, but the
proposition he accepted at once, although its advantages were
altogether provisional. This point being settled, the Prefect
broke forth at once into explanations of his own views,
interspersing them with long comments upon the evidence; of which
latter we were not yet in possession. He discoursed much and,
beyond doubt, learnedly; while I hazarded an occasional suggestion
as the night wore drowsily away. Dupin, sitting steadily in his
accustomed arm-chair, was the embodiment of respectful attention.
He wore spectacles, during the whole interview; and an occasional
glance beneath their green glasses sufficed to convince me that he
slept not the less soundly, because silently, throughout the seven
or eight leaden-footed hours which immediately preceded the
departure of the Prefect.
In the morning, I procured, at the Prefecture, a full report
of all the evidence elicited, and, at the various newspaper
offices, a copy of every paper in which, from first to last, had
been published any decisive information in regard to this sad
affair. Freed from all that was positively disproved, the mass of
information stood thus:
Marie Roget left the residence of her mother, in the Rue Pavee
St Andree, about nine o'clock in the morning of Sunday, June the
twenty-second, 18--. In going out, she gave notice to a Monsieur
Jacques St Eustache,<1> and to him only, of her intention to spend
the day with an aunt, who resided in the Rue des Dromes. The Rue

<1>Payne.


des Dromes is a short and narrow but populous thoroughfare, not far
from the banks of the river, and at a distance of some two miles,
in the most direct course possible, from the of Madame
Roget. St Eustache was the accepted suitor of Marie, and lodged,
as well as took his meals, at the . He was to have gone
for his betrothed at dusk, and to have escorted her home. In the
afternoon, however, it came on to rain heavily; and, supposing that
she would remain at her aunt's (as she had done under similar
circumstances before), he did not think it necessary to keep his
promise. As night drew on, Madame Roget (who was an infirm old
lady, seventy years of age) was heard to express a fear 'that she
should never see Marie again'; but this observation attracted
little attention at the time.
On Monday it was ascertained that the girl had not been to the
Rue des Dromes; and when the day elapsed without tidings of her, a
tardy search was instituted at several points in the city and its
environs. It was not, however, until the fourth day from the
period of her disappearance that anything satisfactory was
ascertained respecting her. On this day (Wednesday, the twenty-
fifth of June) a Monsieur Beauvais,<1> who, with a friend, had been
making inquiries for Marie near the Barriere du Roule, on the shore
of the Seine which is opposite the Rue Pavee St Andree, was
informed a corpse had just been towed ashore by some fishermen, who
had found it floating in the river. Upon seeing the body,
Beauvais, after some hesitation, identified it as that of the
perfumery girl. His friend recognized it more promptly.
The face was suffused with dark blood, some of which issued
from the mouth. No foam was seen, as in the case of the merely
drowned. There was no discoloration in the cellular tissue. About
the throat were bruises and impressions of fingers. The arms were
bent over on the chest, and were rigid. The right hand was
clenched; the left partially open. On the left wrist were two
circular excoriations, apparently the effect of ropes, or of a rope
in more than one volution. A part of the right wrist, also, was
much chafed, as well as the back throughout its extent, but more
especially at the shoulder-blades. In bringing the body to the
shore the

<1>Crommelin.


fishermen had attached to it a rope, but none of the excoriations
had been effected by this. The flesh of the neck was much swollen.
There were no cuts apparent, or bruises which appeared the effect
of blows. A piece of lace was found tied so tightly around the
neck as to be hidden from sight; it was completely buried in the
flesh, and was fastened by a knot which lay just under the left
ear. This alone would have sufficed to produce death. The medical
testimony spoke confidently of the virtuous character of the
deceased. She had been subjected, it said, to brutal violence.
The corpse was in such condition when found that there could have
been no difficulty in its recognition by friends.
The dress was much torn and otherwise disordered. In the
outer garment, a slip, about a food wide, had been torn upward from
the bottom hem to the waist, but not torn off. It was wound three
times around the waist, and secured by a sort of hitch in the back.
The dress immediately beneath the frock was of fine muslin; and
from this a slip eighteen inches wide had been torn entirely out--
torn very evenly and with great care. It was found around her
neck, fitting loosely, and secured with a hard knot. Over this
muslin slip and the slip of lace the strings of a bonnet were
attached, the bonnet being apprehended. The knot by which the
strings of the bonnet were fastened was not a lady's, but a slip or
sailor's knot.
After the recognition of the corpse, it was not, as usual,
taken to the Morgue (this formality being superfluous), but hastily
interred not far from the spot at which it was brought ashore.
Through the exertions of Beauvais, the matter was industriously
hushed up, as far as possible; and several days had elapsed before
any public emotion resulted. A weekly paper,<1> however, at length
took up the theme; the corpse was disinterred, and a re-examination
instituted; but nothing was elicited beyond what has been already
noted. The clothes, however, were now submitted to the mother and
friends of the deceased and fully identified as those worn by the
girl upon leaving home.
Meantime, the excitement increased hourly. Several
individuals were arrested and discharged. St Eustache fell
especially under

<1>The New York .


suspicion; and he failed, at first, to give an intelligible account
of his whereabouts during the Sunday on which Marie left home.
Subsequently, however, he submitted to Monsieur G----, affidavits,
accounting satisfactorily for every hour of the day in question.
As time passed and no discovery ensued, a thousand contradictory
rumours were circulated, and journalists busied themselves in . Among these, the one which attracted the most
notice, was the idea that Marie Roget still lived--that the corpse
found in the Seine was that of some other unfortunate. It will be
proper that I submit to the reader some passages which embody the
suggestion alluded to. These passages are translations
from ,<1> a paper conducted, in general, with much
ability.
'Mademoiselle Roget left her mother's house on Sunday morning,
June the twenty-second, 18--, with the ostensible purpose of going
to see her aunt, or some other connection in the Rue des Dromes.
From that hour, nobody is proved to have seen her. There is no
trace or tidings of her at all. . . . There has no person,
whatever, come forward, so far, who saw her at all, on that day,
after she left her mother's door. . . . Now, though we have no
evidence that Marie Roget was in the land of the living after nine
o'clock on Sunday, June the twenty-second, we have proof that, up
to that hour, she was alive. On Wednesday noon, at twelve, a
female body was discovered afloat on the shore of the Barriere du
Roule. This was, even if we presume that Marie Roget was thrown
into the river within three hours after she left her mother's
house, only three days from the time she left her home--three days
to an hour. But it is folly to suppose that the murder, if murder
was committed on her body, could have been consummated soon enough
to have enabled her murderers to throw the body into the river
before midnight. Those who are guilty of such horrid crimes choose
darkness rather than light. . . . Thus we see that if the body
found in the river that of Marie Roget, it could only have
been in the water two and a half days, or three at the outside.
All experience has shown that drowned bodies, or bodies thrown into
the water immediately after death by violence, require from six to

<1>The New York , edited by H. Hastings
Weld, Esq.


ten days for sufficient decomposition to take place to bring them
to the top of the water. Even where a cannon is fired over a
corpse, and it rises before, at least, five or six days' immersion,
it sinks again, if let alone. Now, we ask what was there in this
case to cause a departure from the ordinary course of nature? . .
if the body had been kept in its mangled state on shore until
Tuesday night, some trace would be found on shore of the murderers.
It is a doubtful point, also, whether the body would be so soon
afloat, even were it thrown in after having been dead two days.
And, furthermore, it is exceedingly improbable that any villains
who had committed such a murder as is here supposed, would have
thrown the body in without weight to sink it, when such a
precaution could have so easily been taken.'
The editor here proceeds to argue that the body must have been
in water 'not three days merely, but, at least, five times three
days', because it was so far decomposed that Beauvais had great
difficulty in recognizing it. This latter point, however, was
fully disproved. I continued the translation:
'What, then, are the facts on which M. Beauvais says that he
has no doubt the body was that of Marie Roget? He ripped up the
gown sleeve, and says he found marks which satisfied him of the
identity. The public generally supposed those marks to have
consisted of some description of scars. He rubbed the arm and
found upon it--something as indefinite, we think, as can
readily be imagined--as little conclusive as finding an arm in the
sleeve. M. Beauvais did not return that night, but sent word to
Madame Roget, at seven o'clock, on Wednesday evening, that an
investigation was still in progress respecting her daughter. If we
allow that Madame Roget, from her age and grief, could not go over
(which is allowing a great deal), there certainly must have been
some one who would have thought it worth while to go over and
attend the investigation, if they thought the body was that of
Marie. Nobody went over. There was nothing said or heard about
the matter in the Rue Pavee St Andree, that reached even the
occupants of the same building. M St Eustache, the lover and
intended husband of Marie, who boarded in her mother's house,
deposes that he did not hear of the discovery of the body of his
intended until the next morning, when M. Beauvais came into his chamber and told him of it. For an item of news like this, it
strikes us it was very coolly received.'
In this way the journal endeavoured to create the impression
of an apathy on the part of the relatives of Marie, inconsistent
with the supposition that these relatives believed the corpse to be
hers. Its insinuations amount to this; that Marie, with the
connivance of her friends, had absented herself from the city for
reasons involving a charge against her chastity; and that these
friends upon the discovery of a corpse in the Seine, somewhat
resembling that of the girl, had availed themselves of the
opportunity to impress the public with the belief of her death.
But was again over-hasty. It was distinctly proved
that no apathy, such as was imagined, existed; that the old lady
was exceedingly feeble, and so agitated as to be unable to attend
to any duty; that St Eustache, so far from receiving the news
coolly, was distracted with grief, and bore himself so frantically,
that M. Beauvais prevailed upon a friend and relative to take
charge of him, and prevent his attending the examination at the
disinterment. Moreover, although it was stated by ,
that the corpse was re-interred at public expense, that an
advantageous offer of private sepulture was absolutely declined by
the family, and that no member of the family attended the
ceremonial;--although, I say, all this was asserted by 
in furtherance of the impression it designed to convey--yet 
this was satisfactorily disproved. In a subsequent number of the
paper, an attempt was made to throw suspicion upon Beauvais
himself. The editor says:
'Now, then, a change comes over the matter. We are told that,
on one occasion, while a Madame B---- was at Madame Roget's house,
M. Beauvais, who was going out, told her that a was
expected there, and that she, Madame B----, must not say anything
to the until he returned, but let the matter be for
him. . . . In the present posture of affairs M. Beauvais appears
to have the whole matter locked up in his head. A single step
cannot be taken without M. Beauvais, for go which way you will, you
run against him. . . . For some reason he determined that nobody
shall have anything to do with the proceedings but himself, and he
has elbowed the male relatives out of the way, according to their
representations, in a very singular manner. He seems to
have been very much averse to permitting the relatives to see the
body.'
By the following fact, some colour was given to the suspicion
thus thrown upon Beauvais. A visitor at his office, a few days
prior to the girl's disappearance, and during the absence of its
occupant, had observed a in the key-hole of the door, and
the name '' inscribed upon a slate which hung near at
hand.
The general impression, so far as we were enabled to glean it
from the newspapers, seemed to be, that Marie had been the victim
of a of desperadoes--that by these she had been borne
across the river, maltreated, and murdered. ,<1>
however, a print of extensive influence, was earnest in combating
this popular idea. I quote a passage or two from its columns:
'We are persuaded that pursuit has hitherto been on a false
scent so far as it has been directed to the Barriere du Roule. It
is impossible that a person so well known to thousands as this
young woman was, should have passed three blocks without someone
having seen her; and any one who saw her would have remembered it,
for she interested all who knew her. It was when the streets were
full of people, when she went out. . . . It is impossible that she
could have gone to the Barriere du Roule, or to the Rue des Dromes,
without being recognized by a dozen persons; yet no one has come
forward who saw her outside her mother's door, and there is no
evidence except the testimony concerning her , that she did go out at all. Her gown was torn, bound
round her, and tied; and by that the body was carried as a bundle.
If the murder had been committed at the Barriere du Roule, there
would have been no necessity for any such arrangement. The fact
that the body was found floating near the Barriere is no proof as
to where it was thrown into the water. . . . A piece of one of the
unfortunate girl's petticoats, two feet long and one foot wide, was
torn out and tied under her chin around the back of her head,
probably to prevent screams. This was done by fellows who had no
pocket-handkerchief.'
A day or two before the Prefect called upon us, however, some
important information reached the police, which seemed to over-

<1>New York .


throw, at least, the chief portion of 's argument.
Two small boys, sons of a Madame Deluc, while roaming among the
woods near the Barriere du Roule, chanced to penetrate a close
thicket, within which were three or four large stones, forming a
kind of seat with a back and footstool. On the upper stone lay a
white petticoat; on the second, a silk scarf. A parasol, gloves,
and a pocket-handkerchief were also here found. The handkerchief
bore the name 'Marie Roget'. Fragments of dress were discovered on
the brambles around. The earth was trampled, the bushes were
broken, and there was every evidence of a struggle. Between the
thicket and the river, the fences were found taken down, and the
ground bore evidence of some heavy burthen having been dragged
along it.
A weekly paper, ,<1> had the following comments
upon this discovery--comments which merely echoed the sentiment of
the whole Parisian press:
'The things had all evidently been there at least three or
four weeks; they were all mildewed down hard with the action of the
rain, and stuck together from mildew. The grass had grown around
and over some of them. The silk on the parasol was strong, but the
threads of it were run together within. The upper part, where it
had been doubled and folded, was all mildewed and rotten, and tore
on its being opened. . . . The pieces of her frock torn out by the
bushes were about three inches wide and six inches long. One part
was the hem of the frock, and it had been mended; the other piece
was part of the skirt, not the hem. They looked like strips torn
off, and were on the thorn bush, about a foot from the ground. . .
There can be no doubt, therefore, that the spot of this
appalling outrage has been discovered.'
Consequent upon this discovery, new evidence appeared. Madame
Deluc testified that she keeps a roadside inn not far from the bank
of the river, opposite the Barriere du Roule. The neighbourhood is
secluded--particularly so. It is the usual Sunday resort of
blackguards from the city, who cross the river in boats. About
three o'clock, in the afternoon of the Sunday in question, a young
girl arrived at the inn accompanied by a young man of dark

<1>Philadelphia , edited by C. L.
Peterson, Esq.


complexion. The two remained here for some time. On their
departure, they took the road to some thick woods in the vicinity.
Madame Deluc's attention was called to the dress worn by the girl,
on account of its resemblance to one worn by a deceased relative.
A scarf was particularly noticed. Soon after the departure of the
couple, a gang of miscreants made their appearance, behaved
boisterously, ate and drank without making payment, followed in the
route of the young man and girl, returned to the inn about dusk,
and re-crossed the river as if in great haste.
It was soon after dark, upon this same evening, that Madame
Deluc, as well as her eldest son, heard the screams of a female in
the vicinity of the inn. The screams were violent but brief.
Madame D. recognized not only the scarf which was found in the
thicket, but the dress which was discovered upon the corpse. An
omnibus driver, Valence,<1> now also testified that he saw Marie
Roget cross a ferry on the Seine, on the Sunday in question. He,
Valence, knew Marie, and could not be mistaken in her identity.
The articles found in the thicket were fully identified by the
relatives of Marie.
The items of evidence and information thus collected by
myself, from the newspapers, at the suggestion of Dupin, embraced
only one more point--but this was a point of seemingly vast
consequence. It appears that, immediately after the discovery of
the clothes as above described, the lifeless or nearly lifeless
body of St Eustache, Marie's betrothed, was found in the vicinity
of what all now supposed the scene of the outrage. A phial
labelled 'laudanum', and emptied, was found near him. His breath
gave evidence of the poison. He died without speaking. Upon his
person was found a letter, briefly stating his love for Marie, with
his design of self-destruction.
'I need scarcely tell you,' said Dupin, as he finished the
perusal of my notes, 'that this is a far more intricate case than
that of the Rue Morgue; from which it differs in one important
respect. This is an , although an atrocious, instance
of crime. There is nothing peculiarly about it. You
will observe that, for this reason, the mystery has been considered
easy, when for this

<1>Adam.


reason, it should have been considered difficult of solution.
Thus, at first, it was thought unnecessary to offer a reward. The
myrmidons of G---- were able at once to comprehend how and why such
an atrocity committed. They could picture to
their imaginations a mode--many modes,--and a motive--many motives;
and because it was not impossible that either of these numerous
modes and motives have been the actual one, they have
taken it for granted that one of them . But the ease with
which these variable fancies were entertained, and the very
plausibility which each assumed, should have been understood as
indicative rather of the difficulties than of the facilities which
must attend elucidation. I have therefore observed that it is by
prominences above the plane of the ordinary, that reason feels her
way, if at all, in her search for the true, and that the proper
question in cases such as this is not so much "what has occurred?"
as "what has occurred that has never occurred before?" In the
investigations at the house of Madame L'Espanaye,<1> the agents of
G---- were discouraged and confounded by that very 
which, to a properly regulated intellect, would have afforded the
surest omen of success; while this same intellect might have been
plunged in despair at the ordinary character of all that met the
eye in the case of the perfumery-girl, and yet told of nothing but
easy triumph to the functionaries of the Prefecture.
'In the case of Madame L'Espanaye and her daughter, there was,
even at the beginning of our investigation, no doubt that murder
had been committed. The idea of suicide was excluded at once.
Here, too, we are freed, at the commencement, from all supposition
of self-murder. The body found at the Barriere du Roule was found
under such circumstances as to leave us no room for embarrassment
upon this important point. But it has been suggested that the
corpse discovered is not that of the Marie Roget for the conviction
of whose assassin, or assassins, the reward is offered, and
respecting whom, solely, our agreement has been arranged with the
Prefect. We both know this gentleman well. It will not do to
trust him too far. If, dating our inquiries from the

<1>See .


body found, and then tracing a murderer, we yet discover this body
to be that of some other individual than Marie; or if, starting
from the living Marie, we find her, yet find her unassassinated--in
either case we lose our labour; since it is Monsieur G---- with
whom we have to deal. For our own purpose, therefore, if not for
the purpose of justice, it is indispensable that our first step
should be the determination of the identity of the corpse with the
Marie Roget who is missing.
'With the public the arguments of have had
weight; and that the journal itself is convinced of their
importance would appear from the manner in which it commences one
of its essays upon the subject--"Several of the morning papers of
the day," it says, "speak of the article in Monday's
." To me, this article appears conclusive of little
beyond the zeal of its inditer. We should bear in mind that, in
general, it is the object of our newspapers rather to create a
sensation--to make a point--than to further the cause of truth.
The latter end is only pursued when it seems coincident with the
former. The print which merely falls in with ordinary opinion
(however well founded this opinion may be) earns for itself no
credit with the mob. The mass of the people regard as profound
only him who suggests of the general
idea. In ratiocination, not less than in literature, it is the which is the most immediately and the most universally
appreciated. In both, it is of the lowest order of merit.
'What I mean to say is, that it is the mingled epigram and
melodrame of the idea, that Marie Roget still lives, rather than
any true plausibility in this idea, which have suggested it to , and secured it a favourable reception with the public.
Let us examine the heads of this journal's argument; endeavouring
to avoid the incoherence with which it is originally set forth.
'The first aim of the writer is to show, from the brevity of
the interval between Marie's disappearance and the finding of the
floating corpse, that this corpse cannot be that of Marie. The
reduction of this interval to its smallest possible dimension,
becomes thus, at once, an object with the reasoner. In the rash
pursuit of this object, he rushes into mere assumption at the
outset. "It is folly to suppose," he says, "that the murder, if murder was committed on her body, could have been consummated
soon enough to have enabled her murderers to throw the body into
the river before midnight." We demand at once, and very naturally,
? Why is it folly to suppose that the murder was committed
 after the girl's quitting her mother's
house? Why is it folly to suppose that the murder was committed at
any given period of the day? There have been assassinations at all
hours. But, had the murder taken place at any moment between nine
o'clock in the morning of Sunday and a quarter before midnight,
there would still have been time enough "to throw the body into the
river before midnight". This assumption, then, amounts precisely
to this--that the murder was not committed on Sunday at all--and,
if we allow to assume this, we may permit it any
liberties whatever. The paragraph beginning "It is folly to
suppose that the murder, etc.," however it appears as printed in , may be imagined to have existed actually in the
brain of the inditer: "It is folly to suppose that the murder, if
murder was committed on the body, could have been committed soon
enough to have enabled her murderers to throw the body into the
river before midnight; it is folly, we say, to suppose all this,
and to suppose at the same time (as we are resolved to suppose),
that the body was thrown in until midnight"--a
sentence sufficiently inconsequential in itself, but not so utterly
preposterous as the one printed.
'Were it my purpose,' continued Dupin, 'merely to against this passage of argument, I might
safely leave it where it is. It is not, however, with 
that we have to do, but with the truth. The sentence in question
has but one meaning, as it stands; and this meaning I have fairly
stated; but it is material that we go behind the mere words for an
idea which these words have obviously intended, and failed to
convey. It was the design of the journalists to say that at
whatever period of the day or night of Sunday this murder was
committed, it was improbable that the assassins would have ventured
to bear the corpse to the river before midnight. And herein lies,
really, the assumption of which I complain. It is assumed that the
murder was committed at such a position, and under such
circumstances, that to the river became
necessary. Now, the assassination might have taken place
upon the river's brink, or on the river itself; and thus, the
throwing the corpse in the water might have been resorted to at any
period of the day or night, as the most obvious and most immediate
mode of disposal. You will understand that I suggest nothing here
as probable, or as coincident with my own opinion. My design, so
far, has no reference to the of the case. I wish merely
to caution you against the whole tone of ,
by calling your attention to its character at the
outset.
'Having prescribed thus a limit to suit its own preconceived
notions; having assumed that, if this were the body of Marie, it
could have been in the water but a very brief time, the journal
goes on to say:
'"All experience has shown that drowned bodies, or bodies
thrown into the water immediately after death by violence, require
from six to ten days for sufficient decomposition to take place to
bring them to the top of the water. Even when a cannon is fired
over a corpse, and it rises before at least five or six days'
immersion, it sinks again if let alone."
'These assertions have been tacitly received by every paper in
Paris, with the exception of .<1> This latter print
endeavours to combat that portion of the paragraph which has
reference to "drowned bodies" only, by citing some five or six
instances in which the bodies of individuals known to be drowned
were found floating after the lapse of less time than is insisted
upon by . But there is something excessively
unphilosophical in the attempt, on the part of , to
rebut the general assertion of , by a citation of
particular instances militating against that assertion. Had it
been possible to adduce fifty instead of five examples of bodies
found floating at the end of two or three days, these fifty
examples could still have been properly regarded only as exceptions
to rule, until such time as the rule itself should
be confuted. Admitting the rule (and this does not
deny, insisting merely upon its exceptions), the argument of is suffered to remain in full force; for this argument
does not pretend to involve more than a ques-

<1>The New York , edited by Col.
Stone.


tion of the of the body having risen to the surface
in less than three days; and this probability will be in favour of
 position until the instances so childishly adduced
shall be sufficient in number to establish an antagonistical rule.
'You will see at once that all argument upon this head should
be urged, if at all, against the rule itself; and for this end we
must examine the of the rule. Now the human body, in
general, is neither much lighter nor much heavier than the water of
the Seine; that is to say, the specific gravity of the human body,
in its natural condition, is about equal to the bulk of fresh water
which it displaces. The bodies of fat and fleshy persons, with
small bones, and of women generally, are lighter than those of the
lean and large-boned, and of men; and the specific gravity of the
water of a river is somewhat influenced by the presence of the tide
from the sea. But, leaving this tide out of question, it may be
said that few human bodies will sink at all, even in fresh
water, . Almost any one, falling into a
river, will be enabled to float, if he suffer the specific gravity
of the water fairly to be adduced in comparison with his own--that
is to say, if he suffer his whole person to be immersed, with as
little exception as possible. The proper position for one who
cannot swim, is the upright position of the walker on land, with
the head thrown fully back, and immersed; the mouth and nostrils
alone remaining above the surface. Thus circumstanced, we shall
find that we float without difficulty and without exertion. It is
evident, however, that the gravities of the body, and of the bulk
of water displaced, are very nicely balanced, and that a trifle
will cause either to preponderate. An arm, for instance, uplifted
from the water, and thus deprived of its support, is an additional
weight sufficient to immerse the whole head, while the accidental
aid of the smallest piece of timber will enable us to elevate the
head so as to look about. Now, in the struggles of one unused to
swimming, the arms are invariably thrown upward, while an attempt
is made to keep the head in its usual perpendicular position. The
result is the immersion of the mouth and nostrils, and the
inception, during efforts to breathe while beneath the surface, of
water into the lungs. Much is also received into the stomach, and
the whole body becomes heavier by the difference between the weight
of the air originally distending these cavities, and that
of the fluid which now fills them. This difference is sufficient
to cause the body to sink, as a general rule; but is insufficient
in the cases of individuals with small bones and an abnormal
quantity of flaccid or fatty matter. Such individuals float even
after drowning.
'The corpse, being supposed at the bottom of the river, will
there remain until, by some means, its specific gravity again
becomes less than that of the bulk of water which it displaces.
This effect is brought about by decomposition, or otherwise. The
result of decomposition is the generation of gas, distending the
cellular tissues and all the cavities, and giving the 
appearance which is so horrible. When this distension has so far
progressed that the bulk of the corpse is materially increased
without a corresponding increase of or weight, its
specific gravity becomes less than that of the water displaced, and
it forthwith makes its appearance at the surface. But
decomposition is modified by innumerable circumstances--is hastened
or retarded by innumerable agencies; for example, by the heat or
cold of the season, by the mineral impregnation or purity of the
water, by its depth or shallowness, by its currency or stagnation,
by the temperament of the body, by its infection or freedom from
disease before death. Thus it is evident that we can assign no
period, with anything like accuracy, at which the corpse shall rise
through decomposition. Under certain conditions this result would
be brought about within an hour; under others it might not take
place at all. There are chemical infusions by which the animal
frame can be preserved from corruption; the bichloride
of mercury is one. But, apart from decomposition, there may be,
and very usually is, a generation of gas within the stomach, from
the acetous fermentation of vegetable matter (or within other
cavities from other causes), sufficient to induce a distension
which will bring the body to the surface. The effect produced by
the firing of a cannon is that of simple vibration. This may
either loosen the corpse from the soft mud or ooze in which it is
embedded, thus permitting it to rise when other agencies have
already prepared it for so doing: or it may overcome the tenacity
of some putrescent portions of the cellular tissues, allowing the
cavities to distend under the influence of the gas. 
'Having thus before us the whole philosophy of this subject,
we can easily test by it the assertions of . "All
experience shows," says this paper, "that drowned bodies, or bodies
thrown into the water immediately after death by violence, require
from six to ten days for sufficient decomposition to take place to
bring them to the top of the water. Even when a cannon is fired
over a corpse, and it rises before at least five or six days'
immersion, it sinks again if let alone."
'The whole of this paragraph must now appear a tissue of
inconsequence and incoherence. All experience does show
that "drowned bodies" from six to ten days for
sufficient decomposition to take place to bring them to the
surface. Both science and experience show that the period of their
rising is, and necessarily must be, indeterminate. If, moreover,
a body has risen to the surface through firing of cannon, it will
 "sink again is let alone", until decomposition has so far
progressed as to permit the escape of the generated gas. But I
wish to call your attention to the distinction which is made
between "drowned bodies", and "bodies thrown into water immediately
after death by violence". Although the writer admits the
distinction, he yet includes them all in the same category. I have
shown how it is that the body of a drowning man becomes
specifically heavier than its bulk of water, and that he would not
sink at all, except for the struggle by which he elevates his arms
above the surface, and his gasps for breath while beneath the
surface--gasps which supply by water the place of the original air
in the lungs. But these struggles and these gasps would not occur
in the body "thrown into the water immediately after death by
violence". Thus, in the latter instance, --a fact of which is
evidently ignorant. When decomposition had proceeded to a very
great extent--when the flesh had in a great measure left the bones-
-then, indeed, but not then, should we lose sight of the
corpse.
'And now what are we to make of the argument, that the body
found could not be that of Marie Roget, because, three days only
having elapsed, this body was found floating? If drowned, being a
woman, she might never have sunk; or, having sunk, might have
reappeared in twenty-four hours or less. But no one supposes her
to have been drowned; and, dying before being thrown into the river, she might have been found floating at any period
afterward whatever.
'"But," says , "if the body had been kept in its
mangled state on shore until Tuesday night, some trace would be
found on shore of the murderers." Here it is at first difficult to
perceive the intention of the reasoner. He means to anticipate
what he imagines would be an objection to his theory--viz.: that
the body was kept on shore two days, suffering rapid decomposition-
- rapid than if immersed in water. He supposes that, had
this been the case, it have appeared at the surface on
the Wednesday, and thinks that under such circumstances it
could have so appeared. He is accordingly in haste to show that it
 kept on shore; for, if so, "some trace would be found
on shore of the murderers." I presume you smile at the . You cannot be made to see how the mere of
the corpse on the shore could operate to of the
assassins. Nor can I.
'"And furthermore it is exceedingly improbable," continues our
journal, "that any villains who had committed such a murder as is
here supposed, would have thrown the body in without weight to sink
it, when such a precaution could have so easily been taken."
Observe, here, the laughable confusion of thought! No one--not
even --disputes the murder committed . The marks of violence are too obvious. It is our
reasoner's object merely to show that this body is not Marie's. He
wishes to prove that is not assassinated--not that the
corpse was not. Yet his observation proves only the latter point.
Here is a corpse without weight attached. Murderers, casting it
in, would not have failed to attach a weight. Therefore it was not
thrown in by murderers. This is all which is proved, if anything
is. The question of identity is not even approached, and has been at great pains merely to gainsay now what it has
admitted only a moment before. "We are perfectly convinced," it
says, "that the body found was that of a murdered female."
'Nor is this the sole instance, even in this division of his
subject, where our reasoner unwittingly reasons against himself.
His evident object, I have already said, is to reduce, as much as
possible, the interval between Marie's disappearance and the
finding of the corpse. Yet we find him the point that
no person saw the girl from the moment of her leaving her
mother's house. "We have no evidence," he says, "that Marie Roget
was in the land of the living after nine o'clock on Sunday, June
the twenty-second." As his argument is obviously an 
one, he should, at least, have left this matter out of sight; for
had any one been known to see Marie, say on Monday, or on Tuesday,
the interval in question would have been much reduced, and, by his
own ratiocination, the probability much diminished of the corpse
being that of the . It is, nevertheless, amusing to
observe that insists upon its point in the full belief
of its furthering its general argument.
'Re-peruse now that portion of this argument which has
reference to the identification of the corpse by Beauvais. In
regard to the upon the arm, has been
obviously disingenuous. M. Beauvais, not being an idiot, could
never have urged in identification of the corpse, simply . No arm is hair. The of
the expression of is a mere perversion of the witness'
phraseology. He must have spoken of some in this
hair. It must have been a peculiarity of colour, of quantity, of
length, or of situation.
'"Her foot," says the journal, "was small"--so are thousands
of feet. Her garter is no proof whatever--nor is her shoe--for
shoes and garters are sold in packages. The same may be said of
the flowers in her hat. One thing upon which M. Beauvais strongly
insists is, that the clasp of the garter found had been set back to
take it in. This amounts to nothing; for most women find it proper
to take a pair of garters home and fit them to the size of the
limbs they are to encircle, rather than to try them in the store
where they purchase." Here it is difficult to suppose the reasoner
in earnest. Had M. Beauvais, in his search for the body of Marie,
discovered a corpse corresponding in general size and appearance to
the missing girl, he would have been warranted (without reference
to the question of habiliment at all) in forming an opinion that
his search had been successful. If, in addition to the point of
general size and contour, he had found upon the arm a peculiar
hairy appearance which he had observed upon the living Marie, his
opinion might have been justly strengthened; and the increase of
positiveness might well have been in the ratio of the peculiarity,
or unusualness of the hairy mark. If the feet of Marie
being small, those of the corpse were also small, the increase of
probability that the body was that of Marie would not be an
increase in a ratio merely arithmetical, but in one highly
geometrical, or accumulative. Add to all this shoes such as she
had been known to wear upon the day of her disappearance, and,
although these shoes may be "sold in packages", you so far augment
the probability as to verge upon the certain. What, of itself,
would be no evidence of identity, becomes, through its
corroborative position, proof most sure. Give us then, flowers in
the hat corresponding to those worn by the missing girl, and we
seek for nothing further. If only flower, we seek for
nothing further--what then if two or three, or more? Each
successive one is multiple evidence--proof not to proof,
but by hundreds or thousands. Let us now discover,
upon the deceased, garters such as the living used, and it is
almost folly to proceed. But these garters are found to be
tightened, by the setting back of a clasp, in just such a manner as
her own had been tightened by Marie shortly previous to her leaving
home. It is now madness or hypocrisy to doubt. What 
says in respect to this abbreviation of the garters being an
unusual occurrence, shows nothing beyond its own pertinacity in
error. The elastic nature of the clasp-garter is self-
demonstration of the of the abbreviation. What is
made to adjust itself, must of necessity require foreign adjustment
but rarely. It must have been by an accident, in its strictest
sense, that these garters of Marie needed the tightening described.
They alone would have amply established her identity. But it is
not that the corpse was found to have the garters of the missing
girl, or found to have her shoes, or her bonnet, or the flowers of
her bonnet, or her feet, or a peculiar mark upon the arm, or her
general size and appearance--it is that the corpse had each, and . Could it be proved that the editor of entertained a doubt, under the circumstances,
there would be no need, in his case, of a commission . He has thought it sagacious to echo the small talk of
the lawyers, who, for the most part, content themselves with
echoing the rectangular precepts of the courts. I would here
observe that very much of what is rejected as evidence by a court
is the best of evidence to the intellect. For the court,
guided itself by the general principles of evidence--the recognized
and principles--is averse from swerving at particular
instances. And this steadfast adherence to principle, with
rigorous disregard of the conflicting exception, is a sure mode of
attaining the of attainable truth, in any long sequence
of time. The practice, , is therefore philosophical;
but it is not the less certain that it engenders vast individual
error.<1>
'In respect to the insinuations levelled at Beauvais, you will
be willing to dismiss them in a breath. You have already fathomed
the true character of this good gentleman. He is a ,
with much of romance and little of wit. Any one so constituted
will readily so conduct himself, upon occasion of 
excitement, as to render himself liable to suspicion on the part of
the over-acute, or the ill-disposed. M. Beauvais (as it appears
from your notes) had some personal interviews with the editor of , and offended him by venturing an opinion that the
corpse, notwithstanding the theory of the editor, was, in sober
fact, that of Marie. "He persists," says the paper, "in asserting
the corpse to be that of Marie, but cannot give a circumstance, in
addition to those which we have commented upon, to make others
believe." Now, without re-adverting to the fact that stronger
evidence "to make others believe", could have been
adduced, it may be remarked that a man may very well be understood
to believe, in a case of this kind, without the ability to advance
a single reason for the belief of a second party. Nothing is more
vague than impressions of individual identity. Each man recognizes
his neighbour, yet there are few instances in which any one is
prepared for his recognition. The editor of
 had no right to be offended at M. Beauvais'
unreasoning belief.
'The suspicious circumstances which invest him, will be found
to tally much better with my hypothesis of ,

<1>'A theory based on the qualities of an object, will prevent
its being unfolded according to its objects; and he who arranges
topics in reference to their causes, will cease to value them
according to their results. Thus the jurisprudence of every nation
will show that, when law becomes a science and a system, it ceases
to be justice. The errors into which a blind devotion to of classification has led the common law, will be seen
by observing how often the legislature has been obliged to come
forward to restore the equity its scheme had lost.' --.


than with the reasoner's suggestion of guilt. Once adopting the
more charitable interpretation, we shall find no difficulty in
comprehending the rose in the key-hole; the "Marie" upon the slate;
the "elbowing the male relatives out of the way"; the "aversion to
permitting them to see the body"; the caution given to Madame B---,
that she must hold no conversation with the until his
(Beauvais') return; and, lastly, his apparent determination, "that
nobody should have anything to do with the proceedings except
himself". It seems to me unquestionable that Beauvais was a suitor
of Marie's; that she coquetted with him; and that he was ambitious
of being thought to enjoy her fullest intimacy and confidence. I
shall say nothing more upon this point; and, as the evidence fully
rebuts the assertion of , touching the matter of on the part of the mother and other relatives--an apathy
inconsistent with the supposition of their believing the corpse to
be that of the perfumery-girl--we shall now proceed as if the
question of were settled to our perfect satisfaction.'
'And what,' I here demanded, 'do you think of the opinions of
?'
'That, in spirit, they are far more worthy of attention than
any which have been promulgated upon the subject. The deductions
from the premises are philosophical and acute; but the premises, in
two instances, at least, are founded in imperfect observation. wishes to intimate that Marie was seized by some
gang of low ruffians not far from her mother's door. "It is
impossible," it urges, "that a person so well known to thousands as
this young woman was, should have passed three blocks without some
one having seen her." This is the idea of a man long resident in
Paris--a public man--and one whose walks to and fro in the city
have been mostly limited to the vicinity of the public offices. He
is aware that he seldom passes so far as a dozen blocks from his
own , without being recognized and accosted. And,
knowing the extent of his personal acquaintance with others, and of
others with him, he compares his notoriety with that of the
perfumery-girl, finds no great difference between them, and reaches
at once the conclusion that she, in her walks, would be equally
liable to recognition with himself in his. This could only be the
case were her walks of the same unvarying methodical 
character, and within the same of limited region as are
his own. He passes to and fro, at regular intervals, within a
confined periphery, abounding in individuals who are led to
observation of his person through interest in the kindred nature of
his occupation with their own. But the walks of Marie may, in
general, be supposed discursive. In this particular instance, it
will be understood as most probable that she proceeded upon a route
of more than average diversity, from her accustomed ones. The
parallel which we imagine to have existed in the mind of would only be sustained in the event of the two
individuals traversing the whole city. In this case, granting the
personal acquaintances to be equal, the chances would be also equal
that an equal number of personal rencontres would be made. For my
own part, I should hold it not only as possible, but as far more
than probable, that Marie might have proceeded, at any given
period, by any one of the many routes between her own residence and
that of her aunt, without meeting a single individual whom she
knew, or by whom she was known. In viewing this question in its
full and proper light, we must hold steadily in mind the great
disproportion between the personal acquaintances of even the most
noted individual in Paris, and the entire population of Paris
itself.
'But whatever force there may still appear to be in the
suggestion of , will be much diminished when we
take into consideration at which the girl went abroad.
"It was when the streets were full of people," says , "that she went out." But not so. It was nine o'clock
in the morning. Now at nine o'clock of every morning in the week,
, the streets in the city are, it
is true, thronged with people. At nine on Sunday, the populace are
chiefly within doors . No observing person
can have failed to notice the peculiarly deserted air of the town,
from about eight until ten on the morning of every Sabbath.
Between ten and eleven the streets are thronged, but not at so
early a period as that designated.
'There is another point at which there seems a deficiency of
 on the part of . "A piece," it
says, "of one of the unfortunate girl's petticoats, two feet long,
and one foot wide, was torn out and tied under her chin,
and around the back of her head, probably to prevent screams. This
was done by fellows who had no pocket-handkerchief." Whether this
idea is or is not well founded, we will endeavour to see hereafter;
but by "fellows who have no pocket-handkerchiefs", the editor
intends the lowest class of ruffians. These, however, are the very
description of people who will always be found to have
handkerchiefs even when destitute of shirts. You must have had
occasion to observe how absolutely indispensable, of late years, to
the thorough blackguard, has become the pocket-handkerchief.'
'And what are we to think,' I said, 'of the article in ?'
'That it is a vast pity its inditer was not born a parrot--in
which case he would have been the most illustrious parrot of his
race. He has merely repeated the individual items of the already
published opinion; collecting them, with a laudible industry, from
this paper and from that. "The things had all been
there," he says, "at least three or four weeks, and there can be that the spot of this appalling outrage has been
discovered." The facts here re-stated by are very
far indeed from removing my own doubts upon this subject, and we
will examine them more particularly hereafter in connection with
another division of the theme.
'At present we must occupy ourselves with other
investigations. You cannot fail to have remarked the extreme
laxity of the examination of the corpse. To be sure, the question
of identity was readily determined, or should have been; but there
were other points to be ascertained. Had the body been in any
respect ? Had the deceased any articles of jewellery
about her person upon leaving home? if so, had she any when found?
These are important questions utterly untouched by the evidence;
and there are others of equal moment, which have met with no
attention. We must endeavour to satisfy ourselves by personal
inquiry. The case of St Eustache must be re-examined. I have no
suspicion of this person; but let us proceed methodically. We will
ascertain beyond a doubt the validity of the in
regard to his whereabouts on the Sunday. Affidavits of this
character are readily made matter of mystification. Should there
be nothing wrong here, however, we will dismiss St Eustache from
our investigations. His suicide, however, corroborative of
suspicion, were there found to be deceit in the affidavits,
is, without such deceit, in no respect an unaccountable
circumstance, or one which need cause us to deflect from the line
of ordinary analysis.
'In that which I now propose, we will discard the interior
points of this tragedy, and concentrate our attention upon its
outskirts. Not the least usual error in investigations such as
this is the limiting of inquiry to the immediate, with total
disregard of the collateral or circumstantial events. It is the
malpractice of the courts to confine evidence and discussion to the
bounds of apparent relevancy. Yet experience has shown, and a true
philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger,
portion of truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant. It is
through the spirit of this principle, if not precisely through its
letter, that modern science has resolved to . But perhaps you do not comprehend me. The history of
human knowledge has so uninterruptedly shown that to collateral, or
incidental, or accidental events we are indebted for the most
numerous and valuable discoveries, that it has at length become
necessary, in prospective view of improvement, to make not only
large, but the largest, allowances for inventions that shall arise
by chance, and quite out of the range of ordinary expectation. It
is no longer philosophical to base upon what has been a vision of
what is to be. is admitted as a portion of the
substructure. We make chance a matter of absolute calculation. We
subject the unlookedfor and unimagined to the mathematical of the schools.
'I repeat that it is more than fact that the 
portion of all truth has sprung from the collateral; and it is but
in accordance with the spirit of the principle involved in this
fact that I would divert inquiry, in the present case, from the
trodden and hitherto unfruitful ground of the event itself to the
contemporary circumstances which surround it. While you ascertain
the validity of the affidavits, I will examine the newspapers more
generally than you have as yet done. So far, we have only
reconnoitred the field of investigation; but it will be strange,
indeed, if a comprehensive survey, such as I propose, of the public
prints will not afford us some minute points which shall establish
a for inquiry.'
In pursuance of Dupin's suggestion, I made scrupulous
examination of the affair of the affidavits. The result was a firm
 conviction of their validity, and of the consequent
innocence of St Eustache. In the meantime my friend occupied
himself, with what seemed to me a minuteness altogether objectless,
in a scrutiny of the various newspaper files. At the end of a week
he placed before me the following extracts:
'About three years and a half ago, a disturbance very similar
to the present was caused by the disappearance of this same Marie
Roget from the of Monsieur Le Blanc, in the Palais
Royal. At the end of a week, however, she re-appeared at her
customary , as well as ever, with the exception of a
slight paleness not altogether usual. It was given out by Monsieur
Le Blanc and her mother that she had merely been on a visit to some
friend in the country; and the affair was speedily hushed up. We
presume that the present absence is a freak of the same nature, and
that, at the expiration of a week or, perhaps, of a month, we shall
have her among us again.' --, Monday, June 23.<1>
'An evening journal of yesterday refers to a former mysterious
disappearance of Mademoiselle Roget. It is well known that, during
the week of her absence from Le Blanc's , she was in
the company of a young naval officer much noted for his
debaucheries. A quarrel, it is supposed, providentially led to her
return home. We have the name of the Lothario in question, who is
at present stationed in Paris, but for obvious reasons forbear to
make it public.' --, Tuesday morning, June 24.<2>
'An outrage of the most atrocious character was perpetrated
near this city the day before yesterday. A gentleman, with his
wife and daughter, engaged about dusk, the services of six young
men, who were idly rowing a boat to and fro near the banks of the
Seine, to convey him across the river. Upon reaching the opposite
shore the three passengers stepped out, and had proceeded so far as
to be beyond the view of the boat, when the daughter discovered
that she had left in it her parasol. She returned for it, was
seized by the gang, carried out into the stream, gagged, brutally
treated, and finally taken to the shore at a point not far from
that at which she had originally entered the boat with her parents.
The

<1>New York .
<2>New York .


villains have escaped for the time, but the police are upon their
trail, and some of them will soon be taken.' --,
June 25.<1>
'We have received one or two communications, the object of
which is to fasten the crime of the late atrocity upon Mennais;<2>
but as this gentleman has been fully exonerated by a legal inquiry,
and as the arguments of our several correspondents appear to be
more zealous than profound, we do not think it advisable to make
them public.' --, June 28.<3>
'We have received several forcibly written communications,
apparently from various sources, and which go far to render it a
matter of certainty that the unfortunate Marie Roget has become a
victim of one of the numerous bands of blackguards which infest the
vicinity of the city upon Sunday. Our own opinion is decidedly in
favour of this supposition. We shall endeavour to make room for
some of these arguments hereafter.' ----Tuesday,
June 30.<4>
'On Monday, one of the bargemen connected with the revenue
service saw an empty boat floating down the Seine. Sails were
lying in the bottom of the boat. The bargeman towed it under the
barge office. The next morning it was taken from thence without
the knowledge of any of the officers. The rudder is now at the
barge office.' --, Thursday, June 26.<5>
Upon reading these various extracts, they not only seemed to
me irrelevant, but I could perceive no mode in which any one of
them could be brought to bear upon the matter in hand. I waited
for some explanation from Dupin.
'It is not my present opinion,' he said, 'to upon
the first and second of these extracts. I have copied them chiefly
to show you the extreme remissness of the police, who, as far as I
can understand from the Prefect, have not troubled themselves, in
any respect, with an examination of the naval officer alluded to.
Yet it

<1>New York .
<2>Mennais was one of the parties originally suspected and
arrested, but discharged through total lack of evidence.
<3>New York .
<4>New York .
<5>New York .


is mere folly to say that between the first and second
disappearance of Marie there is no connection. Let
us admit the first elopement to have resulted in a quarrel between
the lovers, and the return home of the betrayed. We are now
prepared to view a second (if we that an
elopement has again taken place) as indicating a renewal of the
betrayer's advances, rather than as the result of new proposals by
a second individual--we are prepared to regard it as a "making up"
of the old , rather than as the commencement of a new one.
The chances are ten to one, that he who had once eloped with Marie
would again propose an elopement, rather than that she to whom
proposals of elopement had been made by one individual, should have
them made to her by another. And here let me call your attention
to the fact, that the time elapsing between the first ascertained
and the second supposed elopement is a few months more than the
general period of the cruises of our men-of-war. Had the lover
been interrupted in his first villainy by the necessity of
departure to sea, and had he seized the first moment of his return
to renew the base designs not yet altogether accomplished--or not
yet altogether accomplished ? Of all these things we
know nothing.
'You will say, however, that, in the second instance, there
was elopement as imagined. Certainly not--but are we
prepared to say that there was not the frustrated design? Beyond
St Eustache, and perhaps Beauvais, we find no recognized, no open,
no honourable suitors of Marie. Of none other is there anything
said. Who, then, is the secret lover, of whom the relatives () know nothing, but whom Marie meets upon the
morning of Sunday, and who is so deeply in her confidence, that she
hesitates not to remain with him until the shades of the evening
descend, amid the solitary groves of the Barriere du Roule? Who is
that secret lover, I ask, of whom, at least, of the
relatives know nothing? And what means the singular prophecy of
Madame Roget on the morning of Marie's departure--"I fear that I
shall never see Marie again."
'But if we cannot imagine Madame Roget privy to the design of
elopement, may we not at least suppose this design entertained by
the girl? Upon quitting home, she gave it to be understood that
she was about to visit her aunt in the Rue des Dromes, and
St Eustache was requested to call for her at dark. Now, at first
glance, this fact strongly militates against my suggestion;--but
let us reflect. That she meet some companion, and proceed
with him across the river, reaching the Barriere du Roule at so
late an hour as three o'clock in the afternoon, is known. But in
consenting so to accompany this individual (), she must have thought of
her expressed intention when leaving home, and of the surprise and
suspicion aroused in the bosom of her affianced suitor, St
Eustache, when, calling for her, at the hour appointed, in the Rue
des Dromes, he should find that she had not been there, and when,
moreover, upon returning to the with this alarming
intelligence, he should become aware of her continued absence from
home. She must have thought of these things, I say. She must have
foreseen the chagrin of St Eustache, the suspicion of all. She
could not have thought of returning to brave this suspicion; but
the suspicion becomes a point of trivial importance to her, if we
suppose her intending to return.
'We may imagine her thinking thus--"I am to meet a certain
person for the purpose of elopement, or for certain other purposes
known only to myself. It is necessary that there be no chance of
interruption--there must be a sufficient time given us to elude
pursuit--I will give it to be understood that I shall visit and
spend the day with my aunt at the Rue des Dromes--I will tell St
Eustache not to call for me until dark--in this way, my absence
from home for the longest possible period, without causing
suspicion or anxiety, will be accounted for, and I shall gain more
time than in any other manner. If I bid St Eustache call for me at
dark, he will be sure not to call before; but if I wholly neglect
to bid him call, my time for escape will be diminished, since it
will be expected that I return the earlier, and my absence will the
sooner excite anxiety. Now, if it were my design to return --if I had in contemplation merely a stroll with the individual
in question--it would not be my policy to bid St Eustache call;
for, calling, he will be to ascertain that I have played
him false--a fact of which I might keep him for ever in ignorance,
by leaving home without notifying him of my intention, by returning
before dark, and by then stating that I had been to visit
my aunt in the Rue des Dromes. But, as it is my design 
to return--or not for some weeks--or not until certain concealments
are effected--the gaining of time is the only point about which I
need give myself any concern."
'You have observed, in your notes, that the most general
opinion in relation to this sad affair is, and was from the first,
that the girl had been the victim of a of blackguards.
Now, the popular opinion, under certain conditions, is not to be
disregarded. When arising of itself--when manifesting itself in a
strictly spontaneous manner--we should look upon it as analogous
with that which is the idiosyncrasy of the individual
man of genius. In ninety-nine cases from the hundred I would abide
by its decision. But it is important that we find no palpable
traces of . The opinion must be rigorously ; and the distinction is often exceedingly difficult
to perceive and to maintain. In the present instance, it appears
to me that this "public opinion", in respect to a , has
been superinduced by the collateral event which is detailed in the
third of my extracts. All Paris is excited by the discovered
corpse of Marie, a girl young, beautiful, and notorious. This
corpse is found, bearing marks of violence, and floating in the
river. But it is now made known that, at the very period, or about
the very period, in which it is supposed that the girl was
assassinated, an outrage similar in nature to that endured by the
deceased, although less in extent, was perpetrated, by a gang of
young ruffians, upon the person of a second young female. Is it
wonderful that the one known atrocity should influence the popular
judgment in regard to the other unknown? This judgment awaited
direction, and the known outrage seemed so opportunely to afford
it! Marie, too, was found in the river; and upon this very river
was this known outrage committed? The connection of the two events
had about it so much of the palpable that the true wonder would
have been a of the populace to appreciate and to seize
it. But, in fact, the one atrocity, known to be so committed, is,
if anything, evidence that the other, committed at a time nearly
coincident, was so committed. It would have been a
miracle, indeed, if, while a gang of ruffians were perpetrating, at
a given locality, a most unheard-of wrong, there should
have been another similar gang, in a similar locality, in the same
city, under the same circumstances, with the same means and
appliances, engaged in a wrong of precisely the same aspect, at
precisely the same period of time! Yet in what, if not in this
marvellous train of coincidence, does the accidentally opinion of the populace call upon us to believe?
'Before proceeding further, let us consider the supposed scene
of the assassination, in the thicket at the Barriere du Roule.
This thicket, although dense, was in the close vicinity of a public
road. Within were three or four large stones forming a kind of
seat with a back and a footstool. On the upper stone was
discovered a white petticoat; on the second, a silk scarf. A
parasol, gloves, and a pocket-handkerchief were also here found.
The handkerchief bore the name "Marie Roget". Fragments of dress
were seen on the branches around. The earth was trampled, the
bushes were broken, and there was every evidence of a violent
struggle.
'Notwithstanding the acclamation with which the discovery of
this thicket was received by the press, and the unanimity with
which it was supposed to indicate the precise scene of the outrage,
it must be admitted that there was some very good reason for doubt.
That it the scene, I may or I may not believe--but there
was excellent reason for doubt. Had the scene been, as suggested, in the neighbourhood of the Rue Pavee St
Andree, the perpetrators of the crime, supposing them still
resident in Paris, would naturally have been stricken with terror
at the public attention thus acutely directed into the proper
channel; and, in certain classes of minds, there would have arisen,
at once, a sense of the necessity of some exertion to redivert the
attention. And thus, the thicket of the Barriere du Roule having
been already suspected, the idea of placing the articles where they
were found, might have been naturally entertained. There is no
real evidence, although so supposes, that the
articles discovered had been more than a few days in the thicket;
while there is much circumstantial proof that they could not have
remained there, without attracting attention, during the twenty
days elapsing between the fatal Sunday and the afternoon upon which
they were found by the boys. "They were all down
hard," says , adopting the opinions of its
predecessors, "with the action of the rain and stuck
together from . The grass had grown around and over some
of them. The silk of the parasol was strong, but the threads of it
were run together within. The upper part, where it had been
doubled and folded, was all and rotten, and tore on
being opened." In respect to the grass having "grown around and
over some of them", it is obvious that the fact could only have
been ascertained from the words, and thus from the recollections,
of two small boys; for these boys removed the articles and took
them home before they had been seen by a third party. But the
grass will grow, especially in warm and damp weather (such as was
that of the period of the murder), as much as two or three inches
in a single day. A parasol lying upon a newly turfed ground,
might, in a single week, be entirely concealed from sight by the
upspringing grass. And touching that upon which the
editor of so pertinaciously insists, that he employs
the words no less than three times in the brief paragraph just
quoted, is he really unaware of the nature of this ? Is
he to be told that it is one of many classes of , of
which the most ordinary feature is its upspringing and decadence
within twenty-four hours?
'Thus we see, at a glance, that what has been most
triumphantly adduced in support of the idea that the articles had
been "for at least three or four weeks" in the thicket, is most
absurdly null as regards any evidence of that fact. On the other
hand, it is exceedingly difficult to believe that these articles
could have remained in the thicket specified for a longer period
than a single week--for a longer period than from one Sunday to the
next. Those who know anything of the vicinity of Paris, know the
extreme difficulty of finding , unless at a great
distance from its suburbs. Such a thing as an unexplored or even
an unfrequently visited recess, amid its woods or groves, is not
for a moment to be imagined. Let any one who, being at heart a
lover of nature, is yet chained by duty to the dust and heat of
this great metropolis--let any such one attempt, even during the
week-days, to slake his thirst for solitude amid the scenes of
natural loveliness which immediately surround us. At every second
step, he will find the growing charm dispelled by the voice and
personal intrusion of some ruffian or party of carousing
blackguards. He will seek privacy amid the densest foliage
all in vain. Here are the very nooks where the unwashed most
abound--here are the temples most desecrate. With sickness of the
heart the wanderer will flee back to the polluted Paris as to a
less odious because less incongruous sink of pollution. But if the
vicinity of the city is so beset during the working days of the
week, how much more so on the Sabbath! It is now especially that,
released from the claims of labour, or deprived of the customary
opportunities of crime, the town blackguard seeks the precincts of
the town, not through love of the rural, which in his heart he
despises, but by way of escape from the restraints and
conventionalities of society. He desires less the fresh air and
the green trees, than the utter of the country. Here
at the roadside inn, or beneath the foliage of the woods, he
indulges, unchecked by any eye except those of his boon companions,
in all the mad excess of a counterfeit hilarity--the joint
offspring of liberty and of rum. I say nothing more than what must
be obvious to every dispassionate observer, when I repeat that the
circumstance of the articles in question having remained
undiscovered, for a longer period than from one Sunday to another,
in thicket in the immediate neighbourhood of Paris, is to
be looked upon as little less than miraculous.
'But there are not wanting other grounds for the suspicion
that the articles were placed in the thicket with the view of
diverting attention from the real scene of the outrage. And,
first, let me direct your notice to the of the discovery
of the articles. Collate this with the date of the fifth extract
made by myself from the newspapers. You will find that the
discovery followed, almost immediately, the urgent communications
sent to the evening paper. These communications, although various,
and apparently from various sources, tended all to the same point--
viz., the directing of attention to a as the perpetrators
of the outrage, and to the neighbourhood of the Barriere du Roule
as its scene. Now, here, of course, the situation is not that, in
consequence of these communications, or of the public attention by
them directed, the articles were found by the boys; but the
suspicion might and may well have been, that the articles were not
 found by the boys, for the reason that the articles had
not before been in the thicket; having been deposited there only at
so late a period as at the date, or shortly prior to the
date of the communications, by the guilty authors of these
communications themselves.
'This thicket was a singular--an exceedingly singular one. It
was unusually dense. Within its natural walled enclosure were
three extraordinary stones, . And this thicket, so full of art, was in the immediate
vicinity, , of the dwelling of Madame Deluc,
whose boys were in the habit of closely examining the shrubberies
about them in search of the bark of the sassafras. Would it be a
rash wager--a wager of one thousand to one--that a never
passed over the heads of these boys without finding at least one of
them ensconced in the umbrageous hall, and enthroned upon its
natural throne? Those who would hesitate at such a wager, have
either never been boys themselves, or have forgotten the boyish
nature. I repeat--it is exceedingly hard to comprehend how the
articles could have remained in this thicket undiscovered, for a
longer period than one or two days; and that thus there is good
ground for suspicion, in spite of the dogmatic ignorance of , that they were, at a comparatively late date, deposited
where found.
But there are still other and stronger reasons for believing
them so deposited, than any which I have as yet urged. And, now,
let me beg your notice to the highly artificial arrangement of the
articles. On the stone lay a white petticoat; on the , a silk scarf; scattered around, were a parasol, gloves,
and a pocket-handkerchief bearing the name "Marie Roget". Here is
just such an arrangement as would be made by a not-
over-acute person wishing to dispose the articles .
But it is by no means a natural arrangement. I should
rather have looked to see the things lying on the ground
and trampled under foot. In the narrow limits of that bower, it
would have been scarcely possible that the petticoat and scarf
should have retained a position upon the stones, when subjected to
the brushing to and fro of many struggling persons. "There was
evidence," it is said, "of a struggle; and the earth was trampled,
the bushes were broken,"--but the petticoat and the scarf are found
deposited as if upon shelves. "The pieces of the frock torn out by
the bushes were about three inches wide and six inches long. One
part was the hem of the frock, and it had been mended.
They ." Here, inadvertently, has employed an exceedingly suspicious phrase. The pieces,
as described, do indeed "look like strips torn off"; but purposely
and by hand. It is one of the rarest of accidents that a piece is
"torn off", from any garment such as is now in question, by the
agency . From the very nature of such fabrics, a
thorn or nail becoming tangled in them, tears them rectangularly--
divides them into two longitudinal rents, at right angles with each
other, and meeting at an apex where the thorn enters--but it is
scarcely possible to conceive the piece "torn off". I never so
knew it, nor did you. To tear a piece from such fabric,
two distinct forces, in different directions, will be, in almost
every case, required. If there be two edges to the fabric--if, for
example, it be a pocket-handkerchief, and it is desired to tear
from it a slip, then, and then only, will the one force serve the
purpose. But in the present case the question is of a dress,
presenting but one edge. To tear a piece from the interior, where
no edge is presented, could only be effected by a miracle through
the agency of thorns, and no thorn could accomplish it.
But, even where an edge is presented, two thorns will be necessary,
operating, the one in two distinct directions, and the other in
one. And this in the supposition that the edge is unhemmed. If
hemmed, the matter is nearly out of the question. We thus see the
numerous and great obstacles in the way of pieces being "torn off"
through the simple agency of "thorns"; yet we are required to
believe not only that one piece but that many have been so torn.
"And one part," too, "!" Another piece
was "",--that is to say, was torn
completely out, through the agency of thorns, from the unedged
interior of the dress! These, I say, are things which one may well
be pardoned for disbelieving; yet, taken collectedly, they form,
perhaps, less of reasonable ground for suspicion, than the one
startling circumstance of the articles having been left in this
thicket at all, by any who had enough precaution to
think of removing the corpse. You will not have apprehended me
rightly, however, if you suppose it my design to this
thicket as the scene of the outrage. There might have been a wrong
, or, more possibly, an accident at Madame Deluc's. But,
in fact, this is a point of minor importance. We are not
engaged in an attempt to discover the scene, but to produce the
perpetrators of the murder. What I have adduced, notwithstanding
the minuteness with which I have adduced it, has been with the
view, first, to show the folly of the positive and headlong
assertions of , but secondly and chiefly, to bring
you, by the most natural route, to further contemplation of the
doubt whether this assassination has, or has not, been the work of
a .
'We will resume this question by mere allusion to the
revolting details of the surgeon examined at the inquest. It is
only necessary to say that his published , in regard
to the number of the ruffians, have been properly ridiculed as
unjust and totally baseless, by all the reputable anatomists of
Paris. Not that the matter have been as inferred,
but that there was no ground for the inference:--was there not much
for another?
'Let us now reflect upon "the traces of a struggle"; and let
me ask what these traces have been supposed to demonstrate. A
gang. But do they not rather demonstrate the absence of a gang?
What could have taken place--what struggle so violent
and so enduring as to have left its "traces" in all directions--
between a weak and defenceless girl and the of ruffians
imagined? The silent grasp of a few rough arms and all would have
been over. The victim must have been absolutely passive at their
will. You will here bear in mind that the arguments used against
the thicket as the scene, are applicable, in chief part, only
against it as the scene of an outrage committed by . If we imagine but violator, we can
conceive, and thus only conceive, the struggle of so violent and so
obstinate a nature as to have left the "traces" apparent.
'And again. I have already mentioned the suspicion to be
excited by the fact that the articles in question were suffered to
remain in the thicket where discovered. It seems almost
impossible that these evidences of guilt should have been
accidentally left where found. There was sufficient presence of
mind (it is supposed) to remove the corpse; and yet a more positive
evidence than the corpse itself (whose features might have been
quickly obliterated by decay), is allowed to lie conspicuously in
the scene of the outrage--I allude to the handkerchief with the of the deceased. If this was accident, it was not
the accident . We can imagine it only the accident of
an individual. Let us see. An individual has committed the
murder. He is alone with the ghost of the departed. He is
appalled by what lies motionless before him. The fury of his
passion is over, and there is abundant room in his heart for the
natural awe of the deed. His is none of that confidence which the
presence of numbers inevitably inspires. He is with the
dead. He trembles and is bewildered. Yet there is a necessity for
disposing of the corpse. He bears it to the river, and leaves
behind him the other evidences of his guilt; for it is difficult,
if not impossible, to carry all the burthen at once, and it will be
easy to return for what is left. But in his toilsome journey to
the water his fears redouble within him. The sounds of life
encompass his path. A dozen times he hears or fancies he hears the
step of an observer. Even the very lights from the city bewilder
him. Yet, in time, and by long and frequent pauses of deep agony,
he reaches the river's brink, and disposes of his ghastly charge--
perhaps through the medium of a boat. But what treasure
does the world hold--what threat of vengeance could it hold out--
which would have power to urge the return of that lonely murderer
over that toilsome and perilous path, to the thicket and its blood-
chilling recollections? He returns , let the consequences
be what they may. He not return if he would. His sole
thought is immediate escape. He turns his back upon
those dreadful shrubberies, and flees as from the wrath to come.
'But how with a gang? Their number would have inspired them
with confidence; if, indeed, confidence is ever wanting in the
breast of the arrant blackguard; and of arrant blackguards alone
are the supposed ever constituted. Their number, I say,
would have prevented the bewildering and unreasoning terror which
I have imagined to paralyse the single man. Could we suppose an
oversight in one, or two, or three, this oversight would have been
remedied by a fourth. They would have left nothing behind them;
for their number would have enabled them to carry at once.
There would have been no need of .
'Consider now the circumstance that, in the outer garment of
the corpse when found, "a slip, about a foot wide, had been torn
upward from the bottom hem to the waist, wound three times 
round the waist, and secured by a sort of hitch in the back". This
was done with the obvious design of affording by which
to carry the body. But would any of men have dreamed of
resorting to such an expedient? To three or four, the limbs of the
corpse would have afforded not only a sufficient, but the best
possible, hold. The device is that of a single individual; and
this brings us to the fact that "between the thicket and the river
the rails of the fences were found taken down, and the ground bore
evident traces of some heavy burden having been dragged along it"!
But would a of men have put themselves to the
superfluous trouble of taking down a fence, for the purpose of
dragging through it a corpse which they might have 
any fence in an instant? Would a of men have so a corpse at all as to have left evident of the
dragging?
'And here we must refer to an observation of ; an observation upon which I have already, in some
measure, commented. "A piece," says this journal, "of one of the
unfortunate girl's petticoats was torn out and tied under her chin,
and around the back of her head, probably to prevent screams. This
was done by fellows who had no pocket-handkerchiefs."
'I have before suggested that a genuine blackguard is never a pocket-handkerchief. But it is not to this fact that I
now specially advert. That it was not through want of a
handkerchief for the purpose imagined by , that
this bandage was employed, is rendered apparent by the handkerchief
left in the thicket; and that the object was not "to prevent
screams" appears, also, from the bandage having been employed in
preference to what would so much better have answered the purpose.
But the language of the evidence speaks of the strip in question as
"found round the neck, fitting loosely, and secured with a hard
knot". These words are sufficiently vague, but differ materially
from those of . The slip was eighteen inches
wide, and therefore, although of muslin, would form a strong band
when folded or rumpled longitudinally. And thus rumpled it was
discovered. My inference is this. The solitary murderer, having
borne the corpse for some distance (whether from the thicket or
elsewhere) by means of the bandage around its middle,
found the weight, in this mode of procedure, too much for his strength. He resolved to drag the burthen--the evidence goes
to show that it dragged. With this object in view, it
became necessary to attach something like a rope to one of the
extremities. It could be best attached about the neck, where the
head would prevent its slipping off. And now the murderer
bethought him, unquestionably, of the bandage about the loins. He
would have used this, but for its volution about the corpse, the which embarrassed it, and the reflection that it had not
been "torn off" from the garment. It was easier to tear a new slip
from the petticoat. He tore it, made it fast about the neck, and
so his victim to the brink of the river. That this
"bandage", only attainable with trouble and delay, and but
imperfectly answering its purpose--that this bandage was employed
, demonstrates that the necessity for its employment
sprang from circumstances arising at a period when the handkerchief
was no longer attainable--that is to say, arising, as we have
imagined, after quitting the thicket (if the thicket it was), and
on the road between the thicket and the river.
'But the evidence, you will say, of Madame Deluc (!) points
especially to the presence of a in the vicinity of the
thicket, at or about the epoch of the murder. This I grant. I
doubt if there were not a gangs, such as described by
Madame Deluc, in and about the vicinity of the Barriere du Roule at
 the period of this tragedy. But the gang which has
drawn upon itself the pointed animadversion, although the somewhat
tardy and very suspicious evidence of Madame Deluc, is the 
gang which is represented by that honest and scrupulous old lady as
having eaten her cakes, and swallowed her brandy, without putting
themselves to the trouble of making her payment. ?
'But what the precise evidence of Madame Deluc? "A
gang of miscreants made their appearance, behaved boisterously, ate
and drank without making payment, followed in the route of the
young man and the girl, returned to the inn , and re-
crossed the river as if in great haste."
'Now, this "great haste" very possibly seemed 
haste in the eyes of Madame Deluc, since she dwelt lingeringly and
lamentingly upon her violated cakes and ale,--cakes and ale for which she might still have entertained a faint hope of
compensation. Why, otherwise, since it was , should
she make a point of the ? It is no cause for wonder,
surely, that a gang of blackguards should make to get
home when a wide river is to be crossed in small boats, when storm
impends, and when night 
'I say ; for the night had .
It was only that the indecent haste of these
"miscreants" offended the sober eyes of Madame Deluc. But we are
told that it was upon this very evening that Madame Deluc, as well
as her eldest son, "heard the screams of a female in the vicinity
of the inn". And in what words does Madame Deluc designate the
period of the evening at which these screams were heard? "It was
," she says. But "soon dark" is at
least ; and "" is as certainly daylight.
Thus it is abundantly clear that the gang quitted the Barriere du
Roule to the screams overheard (?) by Madame Deluc. And
although, in all the many reports of the evidence, the relative
expressions in question are distinctly and invariably employed just
as I have employed them in this conversation with yourself, no
notice whatever of the gross discrepancy has, as yet, been taken by
any of the public journals, or by any of the myrmidons of police.
'I shall add but one to the arguments against ; but
this has, to my own understanding at least, a weight
altogether irresistible. Under the circumstances of large reward
offered, and full pardon to any king's evidence, it is not to be
imagined, for a moment, that some member of of low
ruffians, or of any body of men, would not long ago have betrayed
his accomplices. Each one of a gang, so placed, is not so much
greedy of reward, or anxious for escape, as . He betrays eagerly and early that . That the secret has not been divulged is the very
best of proof that it is, in fact, a secret. The horrors of this
dark deed are known only to , or two, living human beings,
and to God.
'Let us sum up now the meagre yet certain fruits of our long
analysis. We have attained the idea either of a fatal accident
under the roof of Madame Deluc, or of a murder perpetrated in the
thicket at the Barriere du Roule, by a lover, or at least by an intimate and secret associate of the deceased. The associate
is of swarthy complexion. This complexion, the "hitch" in the
bandage, and the "sailor's knot" with which the bonnet-ribbon is
tied, point to a seaman. His companionship with the deceased--a
gay but not abject young girl--designates him as above the grade of
the common sailor. Here the well-written and urgent communications
to the journals are much in the way of corroboration. The
circumstance of the first elopement, as mentioned by , tends to blend the idea of this seaman with that of the
"naval officer" who is first known to have led the unfortunate into
crime.
'And here, most fitly, comes the consideration of the
continued absence of him of the dark complexion. Let me pause to
observe that the complexion of this man is dark and swarthy; it was
no common swarthiness which constituted the point of
resemblance, both as regards Valence and Madame Deluc. But why is
this man absent? Was he murdered by the gang? If so, why are
there only of the assassinated ? The scene of
the two outrages will naturally be supposed identical. And where
is his corpse? The assassins would most probably have disposed of
both in the same way. But it may be said that this man lives, and
is deterred from making himself known through dread of being
charged with the murder. This consideration might be supposed to
operate upon him now--at this late period--since it has been given
in evidence that he was seen with Marie, but it would have had no
force at the period of the deed. The first impulse of an innocent
man would have been to announce the outrage, and to aid in
identifying the ruffians. This would have suggested.
He had been seen with the girl. He had crossed the river with her
in an open ferry-boat. The denouncing of the assassins would have
appeared, even to an idiot, the surest and sole means of relieving
himself from suspicion. We cannot suppose him, on the night of the
fatal Sunday, both innocent himself and incognizant of an outrage
committed. Yet only under such circumstances is it possible to
imagine that he would have failed, if alive, in the denouncement of
the assassins.
'And what means are ours of attaining the truth? We shall
find these means multiplying and gathering distinctness as we
proceed. Let us sift to the bottom this affair of the first
elopement. Let us know the full history of "the officer",
with his present circumstances, and his whereabouts at the precise
period of the murder. Let us carefully compare with each other the
various communications sent to the evening paper, in which the
object was to inculpate . This done, let us compare
these communications, both as regards style and MS, with those sent
to the morning paper, at a previous period, and insisting so
vehemently upon the guilt of Mennais. And, all this done, let us
again compare these various communications with the known MSS of
the officer. Let us endeavour to ascertain, by repeated
questionings of Madame Deluc and her boys, as well as of the
omnibus-driver, Valence, something more of the personal appearance
and bearing of the "man of dark complexion". Queries, skilfully
directed, will not fail to elicit, from some of these parties,
information on this particular point (or upon others)--information
which the parties themselves may not even be aware of possessing.
And let us now trace picked up by the bargeman on the
morning of Monday the twenty-third of June, and which was removed
from the barge-office, without the cognizance of the officer in
attendance, and , at some period prior to the
discovery of the corpse. With a proper caution and perseverance we
shall infallibly trace this boat; for not only can the bargeman who
picked it up identify it, but the . The
rudder would not have been abandoned without
inquiry, by one altogether at ease in heart. And here let me pause
to insinuate a question. There was no of the
picking up of this boat. It was silently taken to the barge-
office, and as silently removed. But its owner or employer--how he, at so early a period on Tuesday morning, to be
informed, without the agency of advertisement, of the locality of
the boat taken up on Monday, unless we imagine some connection with
the --some personal permanent connection leading to
cognizance of its minute interests--its petty local news?
'In speaking of the lonely assassin dragging his burden to the
shore, I have already suggested the probability of his availing
himself . Now we are to understand that Marie Roget
 precipitated from a boat. This would naturally have been
the case. The corpse could not have been trusted to the shallow
waters of the shore. The peculiar marks on the back and
shoulders of the victim tell of the bottom ribs of a boat. That
the body was found without weight is also corroborative of the
idea. If thrown from the shore a weight would have been attached.
We can only account for its absence by supposing the murderer to
have neglected the precaution of supplying himself with it before
pushing off. In the act of consigning the corpse to the water he
would unquestionably have noticed his oversight; but then no remedy
would have been at hand. Any risk would have been preferred to a
return to that accursed shore. Having rid himself of his ghastly
charge, the murderer would have hastened to the city. There, at
some obscure wharf, he would have leaped on land. But the boat,
would he have secured it? He would have been in too great haste
for such things as securing a boat. Moreover, in fastening it to
the wharf, he would have felt as if securing evidence against
himself. His natural thought would have been to cast from him, as
far as possible, all that held connection with his crime. He would
not only have fled from the wharf, but he would have cast it
adrift. Let us pursue our fancies.-- In the morning, the wretch
is stricken with unutterable horror at finding that the boat has
been picked up and detained at a locality which he is in the daily
habit of frequenting--at a locality, perhaps, which his duty
compels him to frequent. The next night, , he removes it. Now is that rudderless
boat? Let it be one of our first purposes to discover. With the
first glimpse we obtain of it, the dawn of our success shall begin.
This boat shall guide us, with a rapidity which will surprise even
ourselves, to him who employed it in the midnight of the fatal
Sabbath. Corroboration will rise upon corroboration, and the
murderer will be traced.'

[For reasons which we shall not specify, but which to many
readers will appear obvious, we have taken the liberty of here
omitting, from the MSS placed in our hands, such portion as details
the of the apparently slight clue obtained by
Dupin. We feel it advisable only to state, in brief, that the
result desired was brought to pass; and that the Prefect fulfilled
punctually, although with reluctance, the terms of his compact with
the Chevalier. Mr Poe's article concludes with the
following words. --.<1>
It will be understood that I speak of coincidences and . What I have said above upon this topic must suffice. In my
own heart there dwells no faith in praeter-nature. That Nature and
its God are two, no man who thinks will deny. That the latter,
creating the former, can, at will, control or modify it, is also
unquestionable. I say 'at will'; for the question is of will, and
not, as the insanity of logic has assumed, of power. It is not
that the Deity modify his laws, but that we insult him
in imagining a possible necessity for modification. In their
origin these laws were fashioned to embrace contingencies
which lie in the Future. With God all is .
I repeat, then, that I speak of these things only as of
coincidences. And further: in what I relate it will be seen that
between the fate of the unhappy Mary Cecilia Rogers, so far as that
fate is known, and the fate of one Marie Roget up to a certain
epoch in her history, there has existed a parallel in the
contemplation of whose wonderful exactitude the reason becomes
embarrassed. I say all this will be seen. But let it not for a
moment be supposed that, in proceeding with the sad narrative of
Marie from the epoch just mentioned, and in tracing to its the mystery which enshrouded her, it is my covert
design to hint at an extension of the parallel, or even to suggest
that the measures adopted in Paris for the discovery of the
assassin of a , or measures founded in any similar
ratiocination, would produce any similar result.
For, in respect to the latter branch of the supposition, it
should be considered that the most trifling variation in the facts
of the two cases might give rise to the most important
miscalculations, by diverting thoroughly the two courses of events;
very much as, in arithmetic, an error which, in its own
individuality, may be inappreciable, produces at length, by dint of
multiplication at all points of the process, a result enormously at
variance with truth. And, in regard to the former branch, we must
not fail to hold in view that the very Calculus of Probabilities to
which I have

<1>.


referred, forbids all idea of the extension of the parallel,--
forbids it with a positiveness strong and decided just in
proportion as this parallel has been already long-drawn and exact.
This is one of those anomalous propositions which, seemingly,
appealing to thought altogether apart from the mathematical, is yet
one which only the mathematician can fully entertain. Nothing, for
example, is more difficult than to convince the merely general
reader that the fact of sixes having been thrown twice in
succession by a player at dice, is sufficient cause for betting the
largest odds that sixes will not be thrown in the third attempt.
A suggestion to this effect is usually rejected by the intellect at
once. It does not appear that the two throws which have been
completed, and which lie now absolutely in the Past, can have
influence upon the throw which exists only in the Future. The
chance for throwing sixes seems to be precisely as it was at any
ordinary time--that is to say, subject only to the influence of the
various other throws which may be made by the dice. And this is a
reflection which appears so exceedingly obvious that attempts to
controvert it are received more frequently with a derisive smile
than with anything like respectful attention. The error here
involved--a gross error redolent of mischief--I cannot pretend to
expose within the limits assigned me at present; and with the
philosophical it needs no exposure. It may be sufficient here to
say that it forms one of an infinite series of mistakes which arise
in the path of Reason through her propensity for seeking truth .