Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1871-01-12

st. Peter, returned home after this splen.
did funeral but he could not rest. His
! mind was absorbed with but one idea-he
yearned to possess himself of the Jewels
which had glittered 90 temptingly before
his avaricious eyes. Wherart had always
been esteemed plain-dealing, honest
sort of fellow, one who was incapable of
committing theft. He was charitable,
well-meaning man enough, but he could
not comprehend or appreciate the senti-
ments which ordained those love tokens
| to lie in impossible Immortality on hal
lowed breast. In his opinion it was silly
waste of treasure, and he argued that no
harm could come of his appropriating it
and he, therefore, determined upon return
ing to the church for the purpose of open
ing the coffin, that he might possess him
self of the jewels.
Upon his entering the sacred edifice on
his guilty GRAND, he trembled like an as
pen-1eaf. The hand in which he held the
| lantern was agitated by SO violent and con.
! vulsive movement, that he was more than
once afraid the light would 60 out and
! leave him in inter darkness; but the ma
ture of his Office had given him familiari-
| ty with the building, every obscure corner
! Of which he was very well acquainted with.
He was not, however, dead to sense of its
sacredness. If the sight of temple in
! spires every pious man with respectful fear,
what must not be felt at that time of the
| night by one who comes to trouble its soil
tude with the intention Of committing an
odious sacrilege?
AS he took his way along the gloomy
aisles, the tombstones on the walls glared
as it were reproachfully upon him one by
one, and his perturbation was increased by
the dart of bat close to his face A thou.
sand marvellous tales returned to his memo
ry as he passed into the Lady Shroeders
sepulchre. He revived his heart as best
he could, laid down his lamp on niche in
the wall, and proceeded with his instIu-
ments to take of the lid of the coffin
which contained the body Of her who had
been consigned to her last resting place on
the morning of that day.
Heintz Wherart took off the lid; then
the sight of the corpse lying there by that
dim light in the heavy stiffness of death,
with its white and placid countenance,
made his heart beat violently and his
nerves tremble. The sublimity Of the
sight made him feel the meanness Of his
action with double force Heavy drops of
perspiration believed his forehead and
temples; he felt faint, and returned into the
body of the church. The GOODNESS of the
air refreshed him, and he made up his
mind to abandon his wicked project but
upon recOllecting that the lid of the coffin
should be replaced, he mustered an air of
intrepidity to his brow, and went again in
to the vault to replace the lid.
But the sight of the corpse was not near
| ly so awful to him as it had been before,
and his original intention seemed to sud
denly move him to action. By quick eff
fort he lifted the body, drew the chain over
the head, disengaged the locket from un-
der the hand and then lowered the corpse
into its place. AS he did this, the arm,
which before lay upon the breast, fell with
a strange fexibility over the side of the
coffin, and faint sigh came from the
body.
At this moment he thought he heard the
pendulum of the great clock move quicker
and more noisily Had thunder clap
broken in upon the silence, he could not
have been more staggered than he was at
this awful moment He rushed hastily
forth-fear finds its way in the Oakland
needless of his lantern, which he left in
the niche, he passed out of the vault and
crossed the cloister and choir with the
swiftness Of hunted hare. He opened
the church door to go out, when, as if to
increase his bewilderment, the first thing
that met his eyes was the great moon lift
| ing itself in undated lustre over the edge
| of the horizon. 1t shone right opposite,
and seemed looking at and coming to ex-
pose him. He did not dare to lift his eyes
again but without stopping to lock up
the church, he flew over the fields, pursued
by his own fears.
A reaction, as sudden as it was sincere,
took place in his feelings, and he became
anxious to make full and ample confes-
sion, and, for this purpose he at once de-
termined upon seeking audience with the
Baron Anton Eselwicke. He had not
much difficulty in this respect, as he knew
the Baron was staying at Hotel de Belle
vue He made quickly for the hotel, rang
the porter's bell, and inquired for the
Baron, and was at once shown up into the
apartments he occupied. His pale face and
distracted appearance was the occasion of
some surprise, which was considerably en-
HANGED upon his falling on his knees, and
relating, in hurried accents, the adventure
of the night ftat-
The Baron, as may be supposed, heard
him with wonder, but his anger was tenn
pered with pity. The story the latter had
been relating appeared so improbable, that
the bereaved husband was under the i'm
preston that the narrator must be either
effected with some peculiar and underlined
species Of monomania, or else be the vic
tim of weak and superstitious fears.
He considered moment, and then said,
81 must, perforce, give credence to the
story you have been telling me, the more
so, since you confess yourself guilty of the
crime Of sacrilege; and no man would
heedlessly or thoughtlessly be his own ac-
cuser in such case. Still there is one
part Of your statement which l find it
hard to believe, and this more especially
concerns myself and her whose memory /
hold dear. Heintz Wherart, will at once
hasten to the church. If your story be
true, not moment IL to be lost. You
must lead me to the vault into which the
remains of my beloved wife were consign-
ed this morning" 81 ft$
"Oh, no, no; dare mott" exclaimed the
sexton, with uplifted hand-"I dare not
return
"Then must tell you plainly that / do
not believe what you have been telling
me-" returned the Baron, with frown.