The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1884-08-28

SuddenlY-he did not SINK III IL as lHey
had been doing all along, he dropped
fright down till only his head was visi-
lble.
For Heavens sake stand firm"
gasped Stanley and the three strong men
planted themselves in the snow, and
pulled with all their might on to the
rope. Surely they would be able TO
hold up Jeni? Ay, so they would; but.
as ne moved and tried to raise himself,
the rope gave sharp snap and broke
in two, Just between Stanley and Jen',
and with ringing cry of despair the
guide fell down into the unmeasured
depths of the creyaSse below.
1 Details of the next few hours and Of
the return of the remaining three to st.
M0ritz need be given. 1t was
altogether impossible to recover JeDi's
body, and in his icy grave they left him.
Mayb if the poor fellow could have
chosen his own resting place it would
have been somewhere among those
mountains he loved but too well. j. is
also unnecessary to enter at length into
the painful question as to who was to
blame for the accident; primarily. per-
hapS, Jeni himself. for guide should
trust to no one the supervision of any
thing SO important as the ropes, and
certainly in this case the rope was
worn one, which Jeni, if he had seen,
would never have thought of using,
then Stanley was more or less to blame,
because he promised Jeni he would see
to everything, and instead of doing so
he left the arrangements to Hardt; and
finally, of course, Hardt was bitterly
to blame for taking an unsound rope.
He had but feeble excuse to make for
himself, i. e., that he had no better one,
and did not like to put off the whole ex-
pedition because the rope might be a
tribe rotten.
Stanley was almost Indifferent as ID
the cause, he was so entirely taken up
with its effect, for he felt altogether
frantic at the thought, which never left
! him, of pretty Christina and her awful
sorrow. At first he intended to travel
down without. pause to Sargans, and
| break her the news himself: then it
seemed to him that she would bear to
hear it from her own father, and to him
he telegraphed the facts. Schmidt was
brave man, with strong feelings,
which he held under all circumstances
in perfect control; and perhaps he
thought his little daughter more like
himself than she was, in her present
weakness. Possibly Things might have
been different if he, realizing her feeble
ness, had prepared her for the bad
news, before telling it her in its utter
hOpeesSneSs; but he treated her as he
would have preferred being treated
himself. With the telegram in his
hand he went into her room where she
sat by her baby'S cot, and said to her:
''Christina, Your husband is killed!'
And he put the telegram into her lap.
She looked scared for an instant, and
then she said. with a sweet pretty smile
playing round her mouth:
80 no he isn't; he is coming home
to me tonight"
But, my child, he was killed yester-
day on the Piz Berninar'
She turned terribly white, and that
hopeless mOnosyllable, .'Dead,' es-
capped from between her closed lips,
while, snatching up the telegram, she
read and re-read its contents and un-
derStOod its cruel meaning only too
clearly for her reason to bear the shock
it received. Gradually change most
cruel to watch came over her agonized
face. Again it was lighted by smile
but senseless, feelingleSs, meaning
less smile and she said gaily:
''He is coming by the 6:Z0 train. We
must 90 down and meet him, father"
''GOOd Heavensl was she mad?"
Ay, mad she was. although her father
could not believe anything SO horrible !
until the doctor fetched from Zurich, in
his certainty of the fact, asked what
asylum Schmidt proposed sending her
to; then he said liercely that he would !
look after his own daughter himself. |
And he did so, with the tenderness
which belongs only to strong man, a.
long as the poor girl needed it.
Far more pitiful than any heart.
broken woman was she in her Senseless /
expectancy. which gave way after
day or two to dull despair. But she con !
tinued to insist that Hans was coming
by the 600 train; and aftera while, not /
content with meeting that one. she spent /
nearly the whole of her time just out
side the station. where she could see the .
trains come in and watch who got out
of them. When Stanley arrived one .
evening, in pouring rain, she was stand |
inc there barcheaded (for she eXcitedly .
refused any interference.) her long
golden brown hair streaming over her .
shoulders on to her dripping, clinging .
black gown. She tried to dart toward .
the train rs it drew up, but her father,
gently but firmly putting his arms .
around her, kept her near him. she .
struggled violently for moment. and /
then remained passive. Everybody in !
the train was watching and plying her,
and, it may be, wondering concerning
her sad story When she caught sight /
of Stanley she fed to some steps which :,
led to the basement of a neighboring !
house, and crouched down on them,
began twisting up her hair in desperate I
haste.
''Ths is Hans friend" she said, /
''who will tell me why he does not .
come; but Hans would like me to be .
very tidy and neat to meet the gentle /
man.
And then. with the impetuosity OF /
madness, she rushed up to Stanley, and I
falling on her knees on the wet ground, !
at his feet, she begged and implored /
him to send her husband back to her. |
The last time Stanley had seen Chris
tina she was standing oy Jeni's side, I
holding his hand and looking proudly
and fondly into his face, her own light
ened by happy realities and happy
hopes; and now, with her wild eyes. her
white face, her awful, terrified. sense
less expression, she was pleading for
the treasure which could never, never
be given her again in this world. Stan
lev let her, half maddened himself by