The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1873-02-14
FREMONT SANDUSKY COUNTY OHIO FRIDAY FEBRUARY a. 1873

, Though it divided them, it mad
him glad; for would it not soon brinl
them together9 It was not an ad
vancement he could marry on; bu
it was the intermediate step to sucl
promotion, and he was pleased t,
have got so far. Before departin,
for his new home, he went one
more to say farewell to his old one
and to take away his few posses
sions. All was as he had left it, ex
cept Beatrice, and she seemed chang
cd, how, he could hardly say.
There was a shyness and distanct
about her manner toward himself
that panied him; she had more the
behavior of lady than those simple
girlish ways he had delighted in be-
fore. When he dropped some hint
of this to her father he pooh-poohed
it. 'Why Paul." he said, "the maid
must change into the woman, and
the thought ofapproaching matrimo-
ny sobers every girl These are cob
webs of the brain, boy; shake them
of, they are not worthy of her OF
you.'
Paul left the old Forsathaus with
an anxious heart. But youth is SO
trustful and love so desirous to be-
lieye what it hopes, that the cheer
full, friendly letters he received fort
nightly from old Emil Bergen, full
Of news and messages from Beatrice
dispelled his doubts and fears. The
young man worked on as steadily as
ever.
But one August morning he re-
cieved two letters. One was written
in the stiff handwriting Of his old
master, the other sealed with the
huge Government seal. He hastily
broke the latter, for he thought it
might directly concern the attain
ment of his aim in life; nor was he
mistaken. The writing offered to
Paul Smitt, Forester, the Forester
of Odenbruck, on the Brockenfeld,
with a good income and certain
privileges in consideration of its
lonely position.
Can 1 take Beatrice there? was
his first thought. Will it be right
thus to bury her alive? For himself
he had no thought; wherever she
was there was life enough for him.
While thus considering, he opened
the other letter. His eyes flew over
the pages, and as he read, his face
grew hard and sad. When he had
come to the end he crunched the let
ter wildly in his hand, threw it far
from him, and tottering into a chair
burst into tears.
The letter that had changed the
whole current of Pau's being ran
thus:
"MY wELL-LoTED PAUL-How
shall I find words to clothe my grief
your grief-for it is yours as we'll
as mine, my boy2 Beatrice is ours no
longer, yesterday she left her fathers
home to follow the young Squire of
v. All that can learn is that the
gentleman has met her much lately
in the wood, that they went away
together, and were last seen near
G.. I shall not attempt to follow
her to try and bring her back. She
can be my daughter no longer. To
deceive her doting old father and
afianced husband mo Paul to forgive
her IS more than I can do. But you,
my boy, you must remain my son,
as such l have always loved you.
Come to see me as soon as you can
leave; my eyes long to behold you,
my ears 10 hear your voice. We will
grieve together for our darling.
Come to your affectionate foster
father. Emil Bergen.
Paul accepted the Governmental
offer. What place could be too lone
ly for him nowP What place lonely
enough wherein to bury himself and
his grief? There was a quiet meet
ing Of the two men struck by the
same blow, the elder brought by it
nearer to the grave; the younger
having formed through it a grave
for the full pride of life and youth.
There was not much more for Paul
to bear. The father knew little of
his daughter, and had not sought to
learn more.
"Paul, should she ever fall in your
way, deal kindly to her, for her faith
er's sake, if you can no longer do so
for her own. Will you, Paul?"
"I WILL" he replied firmly. "And
now, farewell, my good father; may
we soon meet again, happy We can
never be, but perchance we may be-
come more resigned"
"Amen," said the old man, but he
shook his head doubtfully.
From that day forth, Paul Smitt,
of Oderbruck, had lived in the lone
ly Forsthaus, and since that day
there had passed ten long, unevent-
tul years. He did his work con-
scientiously and well, was respected
and feared by his servants and de-
pendants, but during all those years
no one had come any nearer to the
lonely man. If any one were i'll or
in trouble, he was kind and sympa-
thetic, inexhaustible in charity and
well-doing, but all thanks, all express
sion of feeling he would Werd of
sternly. One day sped with him
like another. At 6 he would take
his frugal breakfast of beer, soup
and coarse black bread; at l he din
ed as frugally; at s he took his sup.
per, read for his instruction OF
amusement until 10, then went to
bed.
PauPs grief had not diminished
by his brooding on it as the years
rolled on. Before he had been three
weeks at his new home, old Emil
Bergen died, leaving Paul without
a friend in the world. The only peo
pie with whom he might have visited
were the keepers of the hotel on top
of the Brocken, to whom it was 9
two hours walk over a rough, stony
road. But he never sought theil
society; besides, in summer tEey
were too busy with constant visit
ors, and in the winter they were
either totally showed up or left thC
place altogether.
One winter night the wind hoWleC
and moaned, and beat against thc
firm built house rs though it would
level it at one gust, and when tbs