Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1883-05-14

AOotSIS1 VI Ilh1ls35clkloIO, Will d SOOQ H.
come and certain privileges on aecoNnt
of his lonely position.
For it was lonely, high up in the
moorlands where tAe air is always i'm
pregnated with snow, the vegetation
stunted and overgrowa with ichem and
hardy MOSES, which are swept nine
months in the year by wintry blasts.
Far above the line of fowery meads or
thriving corn fields this dreary home of
cold weather harbored only stunted trees.
starved sedges, or hardy hehen. His
nearest neighbors would be five hours
distant, M a small mining town. and the
weather is seldom propitious for much
intercourse.
viii Kathleen be happy there?"
was his only thought; as for himself,
he thrilled with life and delight at the
prospect of so lonely position with her.
He stretched himself up to his full
sturdy height and kissed the letter which
brought him prospects Of so great hap
piness. With his broazed cheeks, his
deep, piercing blue eyes, Swallowed by
overhanging brows which gave to his
lace grave expression, Fritz Linden
was a tine-looking man, and one not to
be easily swerved from his steady pur-
pose.
Full of eager JOY for himself and hest
tating consideration for Kathleen, he
opened the other letter, and, as his eyes
few over its pages, his mouth set and
his face grew hard and ashy pale. When
he had come to the ead he crushed the
letter savagely IN his hand, and, lifting
his sugar loaf-shaped green huntsman's
hat from off brow whose fairness con-
trasted strangely with the bronzed cheek
beneath, he muttered to himself some
solemn vow, and, throwing the letter far
from him, he groveled on the earth in
passionate outburst of tears.
The letter that changed the whole
currant of Fritz's being, ran thus:
My BELOVED Son Ehers shall I find wspds
to break SO gIievoas news to yoa, for the grief
Is yours, poor boy, as well as mine Our
Kathleen is ours no longer. Yesterday she
disappeared with the young Herr Won Dona.
All can learn is that be has been seen much
with her lately in the woods, and they were
recognized at the = station together. So
it ali ends. To have deceived not only her
dotiug cid father, but also her afii2nced hus-
barr, shows lack of feeling and honor which
Cal never forgive, no more than you can, my
poor Fritz 80 We must neither attempt to fol-
low nor to bring her back to US. She is dead
10 us, and hcneefofth 1 have only you, my
dearly loyed son, to lean upon. Come to nae
when you can leave, for the blow is mortal, and
feel have not long TO t0tter under its crush
ing weight. We can bss szdevs together, SO
oosBe to your affeetieaate uncle,
HANS BEHRENs.
So there Was a quiet meeting of the
two men struck by tie same blow the
enc being so nuch nearer his grave by
it, the other having formed through it a
grave for his pride and hopes and youth.
Fritz accepted the Government position;
foG what place could be too isolated, too
lonely for him now? He craved some
savage spot wherein to hide his grief,
where he could pass the rest of his days
far from world he had always found so
treaeherous.
"Fritz," old Rams had said in parting
with bis nephew, elf she ever Gro aes
your path in the future, when am dead
and gone, deal kindly with her for my
sake, if you cannot for your OWE. And
now farewell, and may we know resig-
nation, If happiness is denied us, my
son."
"Amen! !" Fritz answered solelnniy,
as he gave his uncle the desired promise.
From that day forth Fritz Linden had
lived in the lonely torester'S lodge, and
since that day there has passed nine
long, uneventE1l years. Old Naus
Behrens had died before the FIRST one
was out, and Fritz was left without IA
friend in the world. He did his duty
scrupulously and conscientiously, and
was respected and feared by his depend
ents but no one came nearer the lonely
man during all those long years. N,s
charities we're inexhaustible, and lie Was
kind and even sympathetic if any one
was sick or In trouble, but he was none
the less unapproachable and cold, never
relaxing in his stern demeanor, nor had
his grief grown less by brooding over it
as the weary years passed slowly away.
, One day sped with him like another
A frugal breakfast at daylight, and az
equally frugal repast at night, after
which he read and studied until 10, then
went to bed. There were almost never
any visitors to the isolated Forsthaus,
and mis- visits to the nearest town were
too rare and too brief to encourage So
ciability with his neighbors there.
The beginning of the winter IS saw
the snow set in earlier and more storm
lily than usual, and, after steady fad!
for ten days, it lay so high upon the
ground that the only way out of the
! house was by its roof. This was not un-
usual, and, after it had hardened oyer,
, the iamates tanned out to their several
! ! VACATIONS as though they challenged SC
slight thing to iScommode thelA.
One night it began to snow again, apd
| the wind howled and beat against the
house as though it would wrench il
from the tirm-set clamps apd chains,
and level it at one gust. Fritz had beer
belated at work with some of his met
that night, and as they were fighting
their way slowly and painfully through
the storm and darkness he had suddenly
stumbled against a crouching object hal
, buried in the snow, which, when extri
! Gated, proved to be woman clutching 6
! child in her arms, and to all appear
! ances dead.
The men hastily Anprovised a litter
out of one OF their wraps, and shortly
afterward they were standing in the DARK
passage of the Forsthaus, and Fritz was
/ giving directions to his female servants
commanding that warm room and bee
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