Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-04-06
"A happy heart beats in my breast, But A heavv weight upon it lfes.n

T f ern origin. But they were sufficient to | cause the islanders to bestow upon her the name they had formerly given her mother-"ThcS Stranger" Her grahdfa- ther greatly dislilsed her foreign name; as he considered himself one of the pa- triarchs of the community; he insisted that the oriental Marya, should, for the child, be translated into the German Marie.
 The old tower, the home of Marya and her grandfather, is rude, clumsy | structure, upon the island Neuwerk, which lies upon the extreme northwest | arn coast of Germany. The islanders ,all it "The Lighthouse" Built upon point, which, at eOb tide is connected with the main island by stretch of sea marshes, at flood tide it stands a lone sentinel in the midst of the surging sea. Many and varied have been the services rendered by this strange old tower. While for ages its massive walls have afforded shelter and hospitality, the lantern surmounting the structure, with its two-and-thirty lights, intensified by | polished retlectors, has been a beacon to uumbcrlesS pilots, enabling them to guide their vessels safely among the | sands that lie at the mouth of the Elbe.
 It has seen generation after genera tion pass away. In the five hundred years of its history, war, murder and | other deeds of violence, as well as the destructive force of the sea, have ragged !n and about it. All classes of people have found shelter beneath its gray, old roof; merchant princes, whose sway ex- tended over the highways of the sea; defiant sea-robbers, foes to the com mercc of the flourishing city of Ham, burg, who here awaited trial and judg- mcnt; shipwrecked sailors who found here safe harbor; even travellers from I foreign climes, who had now and again { settled upon the island and made their home in the old tower.
 But all that is long past. Even since the time when Marya, "The Stranger" had so disturbed the peace of the little community within the dil1es, thousand tides have cbbed and flowed, and scarce one old woman lives that can tell the | story of her strange deed. Here and there, however, may be found an old ! yray-haired seadog, who can still re- ! ,all the events of that night. long past, when the guiding star of the lighthouse l disappeared, and the death and destruc- ton that followed were attributed to the frenzied throbbing of one woman's heart.
 Daylight was fading. From her high outlook, Marya had watched the great red disk of the sun sink below the hori- zon. Every evening she did this. Only after the last quivering rays had van ished and the dark blue canopy of twi- light overshadowed the murmuring sea, did she recall to mind her household du- ties. Her grandfather prepared to dis charge the duties of his position, for old Peter Eilt was both keeper of the light house and governor of the island. Lit tie Marie accompanied him, still beg ging for more stories of strange lands beyond the sea, where flowers grow as large as the plate from which she ate her supper.
 "One becomes a child again with the little darling and would fain conjure the sun from the heavens for her," said the old man as he ascended the stairs again to polish the reflectors before the lamps were lighted. Marya seized the little one again and embraced her with such fierce fondness that Marie strug- gled to free herself and ran screaming after her grandfather.
 Il am going to get some water" called Marya after the two as she took her waterpails and went down the ssteps. As she emerged from the arched doorway below, she stood motionless for few moments before descending the wooden steps that led down to the well, the one precious fountain that Wa, incloscd with the lighthouse by the surrounding diles. This, too, Marya did every evening. From the l 41D l. -,f she could look out across the nearer dillcs and could herself be plainly scon from the houses that lay between the dillcs bcyond-that was the main thing.
 It was still light enough for that.
 Why Marya so strenuously resisted
 the custom of the island and would not marry Hans Frerik, her husband S brother, might have been easily under
 stood had one seen her little later,
 under the protecting shadows of the
 winter evening, clasped in the arms of
 burly, blondc-haircd youth. The two
 had hastcned to their trysting place on the east side of the old tower, where
 the shadows lay the deepest and where they were protected from the keen north wind. Tender whispered noth- | ings, so dear to the hearts of lovers, | although each regarded the matter
 from an individual standpoint, yet each was so thoroughly imbucd with the views of the practical islanders, that ii f was impossible for them to become I sentimental.
 "Grandfathcr has been very urgent
 again about Hans Frerilx, and this after
 noon Aunt Meta visited us; she did no omit her usual tirade upon my ob stinacy and my being untrustworthy because I am The Stranger It il almost more than can bear. Do yol
 not think so, Karl?"
 Marya placed both hands upon thu
 young mans shoulders. For momen he stood thus, his head bowed il
 thought; then, throwing his arms abou E her, he pressed her to his heart in al
 ardent embrace.
 "Stop such nonsense" exclaime, | Marya, but at the same time returninI . his embrace with a warm kiss. "An 1 F