Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1872-02-24

Directly she saw me she shrank
back For some time she stood there
immovable, and trembling like an
aspen leaf. She dared not ask me on
what account had come there. There
she stood, with her long hair floating
down her shoulders. So young and so
very beautiful, A few hours ago, and
she owned every thing she desired most
in the world, and now of all women she
was the most miserable.
"And there | stood before her, gazing
into her sweet, pale, terribly staring
face, and did not dare to move or speak
a word. The words stuck in my throat
and nearly choked me.
"And then she fixed me with her
eyes, and that look of fear burned into
me like molten lead.
$50 terrible was that look that | was
compelled to take my eyes off her and
look upon the ground. When | ven
tured to allow them to stray back again
it was easy to see that Marie Oppenheim
guessed-nay, knew-all.
go Max is dead 7 she shrieked, putting
her hand to her heart, as if that one
effort had made it cease to beat.
81 said nothing. There was wild,
ny SbtIlCal SUI, tflti tIleu, ldlllIS upon
her knees, she moaned out prayer.
After that she fell apparently lifeless to
the ground.
81 shall never forget that scene to
the day of my death. Nothing | have
ever seen on the stage, nothing | have
ever read in books, nothing have seen
in pictures, has ever come near it in
depth and intensity.
81 don't know exactly how long |
remained there. was more than half
stupehed with grief myself
81 tried feebly enough to console her.
She would not be comtorted.
80 You are very kind she said, but
don't understand me. Max is dead,
and that is all | care to hear or know.
1t was | who sent him to you. | be-
neutrality-suspicious. happily you would
save his life; but God willed. it other.
wise. He loved him so much that He
robbed me of my husband, and has
taken him to Himself. There is only
one thing | want now-my husbands
body. 1t belongs to met is mine ! |
alone will watch over it, alone will lay
it in the coffin, and | alone will follow
it to the grave? Bid them bring me
my husband, and promise me faithfully
that no one shall disturb the last few
hours that |, Marie Oppenheim, have to
spend with my darling boy. Sir, | beg
I implore you-to allow this 7
"What could | say?
81 gave her his letter, and left her, as
she bid me.
"Night after night | watched the
house from my balcony opposite. 1t was
bitterly cold, but there | stood and
watched, and scalding were the tears
shed for her who sat desolate in the
room in which light burned on
through the long night into the morn
ing again.
Ny house was terribly close to her,
and heard everything. | heard her
awful shrek when they led her away,
and she had seen his face for the last
time; and | heard the dull thud of the
hammer, and the click of the cruel
nails.
"We followed, all of us, but afar off
and away from her, for she begged to be
alone with him at the grave.
"The next day, hearing and knowing
that Maxs widow was desperately poor,
| wrote to her, notifying what we had
arranged to do among ourselves for
her.
"Shc wrote back, declining all assist
ance, and within very few days had
left Heidelberg. No one knew whittier
she had gone. | tried in vain to dis
cover her whereabouts, and not long af
ward myself had completed my uni
versity life there, and came to Eng
land.
''For five years | was attached to one
of the London hospitals, and at the end
OF that period, before | bought the
practice down here" continued DR..
latham, 81 went Tor short Cont
mental trip, and revisited Heidelberg for
the first time since | had left it at the
termination of the old student days.
"There is little wonder, after what |
have related to you, that the place had
a strange attraction for me.
81 lost no time in making my way to
the pretty church-yard where, five years
ago, had seen Max Oppenheim sadly
buried
81 found the grave. 1t was sur
mounted by simple cross. There
were two names carved on the arms of
tllt CROSS. VII one dTll Wd6 luS NOIu
Max, and on the other, freshly cut,
Marie
San old woman was standing by the
grave, and on its bosom was little fair
haired girl, dressed in deep mourning,
and busily employed in planting on the
grave some snow wdrops and violets.
From the old woman | learned how
that Marie Oppenheim had returned to
Heidelberg some few months after
had left for England, bringing with her
a little baby, whom she idolized The
sweet mother had died but few
months back, and here was the little
one on the grave of its mother and
father, as yet hardly old enough to
know the real bitterness of its loss.
"The child took to me in a wonderful
manner. | staid at Heidelberg for some
weeks, and the little one would not al.
low herself to be for moment out of
my sight. The consequence was, that
when returned to England | brought
her with me, and it was given out when
| came down here that was a widower
with an only child. This, my dear
friend, was not, as you well know, the
truth. | was never married, and my
darling Army is the daughter of Max
and Marie Oppenheim."
A little tender sob was heard at
the other erd of the room when Dr.
latham finished his story, and in an.