Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1885-01-03

forward and kissed me. A light bree
sighed across the room, tossed the worn
and faded curtains, shook the armor on
the wall, and died away and was no
more. My friend left me without a
word more; left me to study the picture,
or to sleep, US found it to my mind;
left me to ponder upon his words
"Rertha Eckelburg all the daugb-
ters of the Eckelburgs since"
dropped to sleep in my chair in the
dawn; the candle burnt itself out at my
side; and the soulful eyes of the woman
who tarned Wilhelm Artstein from her
to his death looked down upon me and
stirred in my dreams.
1t was nearly noon when | left my
chamber to go to the rooms below. My
friend was in the library, so the servant
who waited on me at breakfast told me,
and had asked that | should come to
him when l found it convenient. OF
course, went at once.
My friend sat at a long table, which
was covered with books and papers.
Most of the books were very old, some
of them being in manuscript, and my
old chum seemed to have gone back to
his student days again, to Judge by the
way he was at work. stood in the
doorway and watched him for little
as he turned nervously fiom one book
to another, while he smoked furiously
all the time. Soon went over to him,
and laid my hand upon his shoulder
He closed the books before him with a
weary movement, laid aside his pipe,
pushed his chair back from the table,
and said: do you remember what l
said last night3'
Am l ever likely to forget it2''
questioned him in return, and added:
Il am sorely puzzled; what does it all
meanl'
II cannot guess all that it means, y he
said, as he rose and closed the shutters
more securely against the rain, which
was beginning to fall, 'but will tell
you all ! know or can believe. The
picture you saw upstairs last night was
the portrait of the woman for whom
Wilhelm Artstein lost his life. she mar
ried her cousin. There has been just
one daughter in the family of
the Eckelburgs in each genera
ton since The history of the
family records the fact that each one
has looked in almost every respect, in
form and feature, in expression, in
every way one can mention, like the
picture upstairs. Some have said
have said-well, might as well own it,
some have said that the soul of the dead
woman could not rest and that she lives
again with each generation. Can you
guess, my dear old friend, how / love
the tender little child asleep upstairs.
Can you even family imagine how /
prayed that my child might be a
son instead of daugher! Can you think
how feel when look into her eyes and
see the far-away look there, and wonder
whether the weakness of mind which we
look for in infant life is not in her case
merely the weakness of the physical side
of her nature, the weakness OF body and
brain; and half doubt whether the light
behind her dainty eyelids has not had
the might of life for two centuries2
Every one Of the daughters of our long
line has married in the family; every
one has loved some other man, over the
lips of pain have fallen these words,
generation after generation: Il can not
marry outside the family of the Eckel-
burgs, for my husband might have the
faint of the Artstein blood ;"
He stopped and his bead fell forward
on his breast. look at him in silent
pity. What could say to lift the load
of sorrow from his heart?
After little he continued: There is
an old prophecy of d. saster to the family
if they ever allow an Artstein to pass
their doors. Indeed, old Hans Eckelburg
prayed that those who took one of the
mated race into their home might lose
their home and be the last of their line.
l saw the shadow of the coming disaster
in your eyes last night, old friend, did
you not feel ita
Not |. | have only sorrow with
your sorrow, and hope to stimulate your
own hope"
He half rose to his feet as though to
say something more, but evidently
changed his mird, and sat down again
without word In all the long and
tall things. co, sidered), very pleasant
visit we never referred to the subject
again.
We spent our days as we pleased.
There were rides and drives and long
excursions on foot; sometimes we wrote
or read; sometimes we lay for hours to-
gether on the grass beneath the
old trees, and smoked in silence
or talked of the days of young manhood
when we first knew each other in
our college life. Our evenings were
usually enlivened by the pi essence of
the numerous friends of the Eckelburgs.
And at night ! used to divide my time
between the picture in my room and
the night and mystery outside. One
day it rained as though the very heavens
had burst with burden of waters. The
wind moaned like legion of lost spirits.
The river be 0w the castle ragged and
Numbered in It's bed Night came down
suddenly, and without twilight
We sat, my friend, his wife, and myself,
in the great library and listened to the
storm for time, but we parted early
that night and went to our own rooms.
l stood at my open window and
looked out, The rain came from the
other direction, so that was sheltered
nom it, and the lightning was almost
ncessant, 80 that could see the land
sea and the swollen stream below.
All at once there was a sound in the
courtyard below, sound that might
have been anything else that was loud
and crashing, but which seemed to my
ears Ike a OlOW upon the great door OF
the castle. My mind went back, in
spite of myself, to the days when old
Wilhelm had knocked at the door of his
hearts idol with battering ram and axes.
half felt as though the yard were full
of the shadowy forms of those who died
in that savage fight.
listened again, and this time
there was no mistake; mass OF
earth and trees and powders went
crashing from the castle yard into the
torrent below. 1t was death which
was knocking at the door of the Eckel-
burgs. Disaster at last, in substance
rather than in shadow; and with the
substance before me | saw at last the
shadow which felt at once was what
my friend had meant the picture
| thought of nothing else-I must
save the picture-and, as | thought
that tho nroch IF annfbor