A Detective’s Experience

Felo De Se

It was one of those dark, chilly nights which sometimes creeps into February in this latitude, that Mr. I—— and myself, said Mr. F——, stood under the archway of the old court, on Chartres street, so fatal to many an officer in New Orleans. We were watching for a murderer. The damp, chill wind whistled along the wide street, rustling the shrubbery in the square above and lashing the broad river into foam. A dense cloud obscured the light of the moon and the lamps flickered in the darkness, emitting no light. It was a dark, rayless night, and the puttering raindrops were heard at intervals. Far back into the granite block shot the tube-like alley. High above rose story upon story, filled with Sicilian families. All were not the sinful people that had stained their race with crime; some were gentle and good. Few there were, however, whose hands were guiltless of blood. A fierce, remorseless treachery had sacrificed many a brave man to their fears or their revenge.

Our position, we knew, was a dangerous one. A breath of suspicion—an inkling, merely, of our purpose, and our lives would not have been… Read More