The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1897-08-28
CARINTHIAN
.. TRAGEDY.

rrieyed, to hear this OF tnee' hupeu my
aet.epeated admonitlons would have
borne better fruit"
Tho person to whom ne spoke was a
man OF forbIdding aspect, whose cunning
aves. peering from under their shaggy
broWs, glanced restlessfy from face to
face OF those around him, seeking some
escape from conviction, but manifestlng
no sign of penitence.
IT would fain admonlsh thee once more
IN private, my son." pursued the abbot
gently, land bid thee by daily prayer and
penance to wrestle with the evil spirit
that leadeth thee astray-but alas! thou
hast transgressed so often!"
Ut is a grIevuus fault, father" put In
the subprIoran energetic young monk
with stern, compressed lips, who stood
scanning with keen eyes the face Of the
cuIprit; moreover, the transgressl9h
hath been an open one, and cannot pe
atoned by private penance; II ls known
TO many Of the community ana 'hereuEe
Young brethren among US
'sTrue," said the abbot. sadly. Il must
thinlr of INV duty 10 others, and the mat
Ter is clear. beyond all doubt; and yet II
erjeyes me sorely. We must lay 1t be-
fore the chapter tomorrow"
The culprit was led out in sullen 81
fence, the subprIor bringing up the rear
after receiving the directions VI his SUI
perior for the following day.
"a severe punishment and public re-
buke may lead him back into the right
uath at last" murmured the abbot 10
himself as he paced slowly up and down.
II would II were possible to cure sin by
gentle means. Woe Is me that / must
WELD the stern arm Of justice"
The cloud was still heavy on the old
man's brow as he climbed a long stone
staircase which led 10 large bright
room, the scriptorlum OF the monastery
II was usually filled with busy transcri-
berS, for the library had been celebrated
for generations; now. however. II had
hut one occupant; an elderly man, clad
IN the brown robe OF the order sat at
table drawn close to one OF the windows;
his head was bent over the vellum ON
which with slow and careful hand he was
trapscribing precious manuscript ana
60 absorbed was he In his task that he
never noticed the abbots entrance I'LL
the latter, sat down beside him.
~ have been sorely troubled, Brother
Anthony" said the superior John, the
cook, has been found at his old practices.
seen by several Of the brethren. and
brought to me for public censure."
The scribe looked up at the sad FACE
beside him.
"That man mistook his vocation when
he Joined us; there will be neither peace
nor order among US while he remains. 1t
Is well. perhaps, that he has broken the
rule openly and must be Judged by the
chapter"
"Perhaps." rejoined the other Thoughts
fully; 1--WE must not question the lead
ings OF Providence. Yet would 1t had
moi fallen to me to pronounce sentence
'on an erring brother!"
my work is done for to-day" said the
scribe, after q short pause. Wlping and
replacing his pen with solemn care. he
turned back page or two till he came to
hln last initial letter, and laid It before
his friend as II TO divert his thoughts TO q
more pleasant subject. II was q gem OF
mlssai-painting, and represented tn It's
small compass bird setting on its nest
among tall rushes, the little head turned
sharply TO one side, and the watchful
eyes directed towards corner where a
child's hand was parting the reeds, and
two little naxen heads were pressed close
together gazing at the creature: there
wasa stretch OF calm water beyond, and
a low range of green hillz-sloped gently
from the farther bank. The abbot utter
ed an exclamation Of delighted surprise.
'How well remember that EVENING""
he cried. 1T was you who discovered
the nest and brought me to look on 1t on
our way home"
'And you who saved me from slipping
into the water In my f1eediessness, said
the scribe; yours was ever the guiding
hand"
at remember. too" continued the alb
bot, "how your good father child us for
staying out so late, and meant to chas-
tise US; but The Miller's Andreas came
running in with the news that the fever
had left his little slster, and the good
man put up the rod. saying there should
be no tears shed on the day on which God
had restored n neighbours child to life.
Many long year has passed, Brother
Anthony, since then. since thou and
looked at the nest by the stream"
Five and forty years." sighed the
other. "and all are gone now save You
and I, who have been friends and broth
ers through ALL"
''Friends till DEATH" said the abbot.
and the two old men Joined hands and
sat in silence for awhile.
''The world was brighter then than Il
has ever been SINCE" ne said presently,
as n thinking aloud.
But not 80 bright as II will be-" said
Anthony. gnzing through the western
window. The gables and walls of the
old town were dark, and q dim veil was
creeping up the slopes and hollows on the
hlllsides; but the rocky peaks of the
Dobratsch stood out sharp and clear
against the sky. flushed with the sunset
glory which melted softly away through
shades OF pallng gold I'll II met the gray
Bhadowy twilight.
1T shall come to pass that at evening
time II shall be light" said the abbot.
Just then the bell rang in the refectory,
and hand In hand the two old men went
down the stairs.
"Thc pottage methlnks has a bitter
taste this evening" said the abbot push
ing away his unfinished meal. and lean
ing back YEARLY In his chair
No one else seemed 10 find fault with
the fare, but the ever-wntchful sub-prlor
Tnotloned to one OF the novlces TO remove
the dish in front Of the superior. and
whispered to him "a place Il carefully In
mis- cell. Later II was remembered that
the abbot sat, absorbed and carewurn,
resting his head on his hand. and that al
even-song his voice faltercd strangely,
and his face was deathly pale But ali
knew that he was sad nj heart on nc.
count Of the scandal IN the monastery.
and none gave heed 10 these symptoms.
Gill at the dead Of night the whole com.
munity WINS aruused by the tldlnEs that
thelr Hnperlor had boon nnlHnd WIN rrnr.