Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 05
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 05
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
Leaving the body to the charge of the housekeeper, I called Walter T----
to accompany me to where the individuals stood with the lights, with the
view of tracing the foot-prints in the snow to the hiding place of the
cool-murderer, who had committed apparently so gratuitous a crime. When
we arrived at the spot, several other people had collected, among whom
were some sheriff officers on their way to the scene of the murder, but
who stopped to join in, or rather superintend this investigation. The
foot-prints around the spot where the people had collected were too much
mixed and confused to be capable of being traced for some distance;
but, further on, they were again discernible and traceable, and, at one
place, the extraordinary appearance presented itself to one of the
officers, of a well defined figure of a pistol imprinted on the snow,
with the finger points of a hand applied to lifting it from the
ground--suggesting to the mind of every one present the unavoidable
conclusion that the murderer had dropped the instrument of his crime in
the hurry of his retreat, and had snatched it up again as he continued
his flight.
We proceeded onwards slowly, aided by several lights brought from the
house; and, though the darkness of the night presented many difficulties
to a successful search, we were still able to progress with certainty to
the termination of the murderer's route. Whenever two distinct marks
were traced, we felt no difficulty in identifying them, from the unusual
circumstance of one of them bearing the impress of nail heads, and the
other not, as if only one of the shoes worn by the culprit had undergone
the coarse process of repair, in which, in Scotland, short nails with
broad heads are often used. As we proceeded onwards, some one cried out
that the prints led to the dwelling of Walter T----; a remark which
seemed to be about being verified by that individual's house now
reflecting from its dark walls the glare of the lights, while the
footsteps were clearly verging towards the door. I looked round and
stared full in the face of the man, as it was darkly revealed to me by
the flickering tapers; and, though I could perceive no indications of
terror, there were clearly discernible signs of confusion, which,
however, might have been the consequence of innocence as well as of
guilt.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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