New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1883-10-10

..Surely she is not to blame for the
sins OF her wicked parents. Promise me
that thou wilt not touch a hair OF her
silken head. =
But Steinert turned upon her a face
like night, and commanded sternly:
''Hush thee, woman!!'
A giantin strength, he was like child
in nature.
When the moon rose and shed its sill
very luster over grey crag and lonely
mountain tarn, it showed the steep de-
file peopled, but not with richly-clad
retainers and steeds covered with COR
geous trappings.
Only shadows they seemed to be, but
they were the shadows of men-stal-
wart men from the shamlets below, with
anger burning in their very. chances,
and hatred of oppression raging in their
hearts.
Stowassah Castle reared its proud
turrets from foundations OF solid rock,
and the darkness lowered like mantle
about its ancient UNCOVERED walls.
A few lights glimnered from the
| stained windows sunk deeply in the
heavy masonry. but no sound was
heard save the cry of passing bird
and the mournful sigh of the night
| wind.
''Hist!" whispered Peter Breckert,
"his followers will be stationed in the
entrance hall, and we must surprise and
overpower them if we wish success to be
ours"
Softly they trod the grecnsward. Cau-
tiously they mounted the wide stone
steps with the couchant lions of theVon
Fernalds keeping guard on either side,
and stood motionless, with bated breath,
under the noble archway of the very
castle itself. No armed foe sprang up
to check their entrance. There was no
shout of alarm followed by the answer
ing clash and clangor of STEEL Only
dead silence greeted them.
With footsteps that seemed to hush
themselves on the marble pave they
passed on through the spacious hall,
and as they went the angry light died
out of their eyes, and their hearts beat
to a gentler measure, for a reverent
hush seemed to linger in the air.
In the far distance glimmered lights,
and moved by a common impulse they
followed in their direction as sailors fol-
low a beacon at sea. Suddenly, as Carl
Steinert, the foremost, paused on the
threshold of a spacious high-ceiled
apartment, q voice broke the stiffness,
voice SO silvery sweet and clear that it
might have been that of an angel chant
ing:
He shall put down the mighty from their seats,
And exalt the lowly to high degree.
And other voices took up the strain
and prolonged it till the words died
away among the arches in notes of raw
ishing melody. Then, in the second 81
lence that followed, they crossed the
threshold and entered.
The lights from thousand waxen
tapers glittered from their solid silver
holders on the snowy silken drapery of
high altar.
Rare blossoms shed their beauty and
perfume everywhere, hanging heavy
scented heads, or lifting up fairy.white
chalices as if in prayer.
In front of the altar, on a couch of
flowers fairer and fresher than any
others, lay extended a slender waxen
form, clad in rich silken robe, with
long dark lashes curling on the dainty
cheek, and fair sunny hair falling like a
veil of gold about her.
Many an ancient retainer of the house
stood around, and one, reused by the
entrance of the new corners, spoke as
in q dream:
''The countess is dead"
And the words passed from lip to lip
adown the whole long line:
The young Countess Clotilde is
dead.''
Then uprose from the head of the bier
tall bent form, that but a day since
had been straight as mountain pine,
and, in spite of the silver that threaded
his black locks, and the strength and
pride that had ever departed from him,
the villagers recognized their tyrant
lord and master.
One moment the keen dark eyes
swept over the sea of faces with some
thing of their old naughty light; then
they grew dim with unshed tears, and
he said, in voice that sounded strange
to their unaccustomed ears:
This is kind in you, my people. But
five days ago refused your prayer with
cruel scorning, and yet in your hearts
you bear me no hatred.
''Wel may you mourn. She who lies
dead before you, loved you with love
that passeth knowledge.
lone hour before the breath left her
lips she won from me, as dying boon,
the promise that I, your feudal lord,
would free you from taxation and bond
age, and create you free tillers of the
soil.
'.Henceforth your liberty is your own;
yours and the children that will follow
after you, and the law shall bind what 1
have spoken.
Gas for me, I am bereft. MY child
my child! the last of mine ancient, no
BILE race!'
One moment they looked into one an
others faces, and then at the stricken
count, who, bending low, saw naught
but the couch of flowers that held his
idol; but no words came to their aid.
Silently they passed by the bier,
Reverently they touched the folded
waxen hands, and the yellow silken-
tressed head that but five ewes ago they
had cursed in their heart of hearts.
Then they passed forth again from the
archway of the castle, and on the thres-
hold they broke in twain their weapons
of steel, and left the fragments lying
there, and with them all strife and hat
red for ever.
And when they had descended and
reached the hamlets, the sun was risen;
and risen, too, their sun of liberty and
prosperity that was in after generations
to give to their children's descendants
an honored name on the face of the
earth.
Three days the bells tolled through
the valley, and when the young countess
was borne to her grave-not to lie in
the stone crypt where slumbered her
noble forefathers, but to green resting
place by the side of the Fatherland's
storied river, where the birds could sing,
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