The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1899-06-18

While Praying ON Her Grave Mt
Night He Was Slain by a Sudden
Shaft of Lfghtning-One of the
Strangest Stories of Modern
Times.
This is strangely tragic story of two
human hearts. 1t Is a tale of such true
love as novelists delight In weaving. but
its hero and heroine did not dwell with
in the covers of a book. They lived.
loved and died in the flesh. Theirs was
romance Of no novelist's fancy. 1t was
thing so real, so fraught with disap-
pointment, so terrible in it's tragedy that
IT. sent these two from the bright sun
light Of youth and life into the dark. i'm
penetrable shadow of death, says the
New York Journal.
Beautiful Blanche Brooke sleeps in
new-made grave. She could not marry
the man she loved, and so she stilled the
pain In her heart by dagger thrust.
dying for his dear sake
Her lover was an ordained minister.
He preached her funeral sermon. A few
weeks later his lifeless form was found
upon her grave. While visiting the spot
by stealth. and praying there in the dark
hours, between midnight and dawn. he
was slain by sudden shaft Of light
ming which during the fury of a thun-
der storm sought his soul and sent it
hence.
Thus 1t Is that In a busy, prosaic world
Of bread-winning and money getting men
and women are swayeo by love-the most
powerful of all human emotions sand
their lives are either blighted or blessed
by it's supreme influence.
Blanche Brooke had the blood of the
Arapahoe Indians in her veins. She was
the daughter of Ulatoa, g. quarter
blood" chief of the tribe in Oklahoma
territory.
A sixteenth part Arapahoe, Blanche
was the more beautiful for the trace of
savage ancestry which was family dis
cernable in her glossy hair and glorious
ly black eyes. Her skin was that of
brunette, clear almost to transparency.
Her figure was slightly above the me-
dunn height and perfect in its symme
try.
But not only was Blanche Brooke fair
to look upon. She had all the charms of
a highly cultivated woman. At the age
of fourteen she had been sent away
to Carlisle, Pa, to the Indian schools
there. Remaining for five years, and ap-
plying herself with diligence to her stu
dies, she graduated with honors as a
student. Her accomplishments were
many.
Blanche Brooke returned to her home
and her people in the grace of refined.
intelligent and fascinating young wom-
anhood. She was at once the acknowl-
edged queen of the Arapahoe tribe and
belle Of the village Of Sacred Heart, Ok
lahoma, where she lived
Now, while the daughter of the chief
was being made wise in the lore Of the
white man. and growing from a slender
young girl of fourteen into the beauty
Of nineteen, there had come to Sacred
Heart handsome young minister Of the
Gospel. rs =
His name was John Forester. He
was twentysfx years old and earnestly
devoted to ecclesiastical work. He
brought to the Indian agency of the
Arapahoes the, zeal Of missionary who
hoped to devote his life to- the saving of
With his own hands he built chapel
for worship. It was neither large nor
pretentious, but 1t sufficed.
The Indians, always loath to associate
with white men in any capacity, and es-
peciaily averse to those protesting re-
Hgion, gradually grew to like the young
man with the blue-gray, penetrating eyes
and serious, scholarly face.
After living two years among the
Arapahoes the minister had won their
friendship and confidence. His eongre-
cation included scores Of sWarthy faces
while attentive ears listened to his teach
fngs Of the Gospel. They were singular
mo INV
.forceful personality. = The white people
regarded him with admiration akin to
alteration.
And then Blanche Brooke came home.
It was the most natural thing that
could have happened-the love at first
sight Of the chiefs beautiful daughter
and the handsome young minister The
black eyes of the girl sparkled as she
met the searching gray-blue eyes of the
man beloved by her people. They were
yelled beneath their lids and thick, black
lashes, while a soft color came into the
olive cheeks.
Blanche Brooke, like unhappy Elaine,
had looked, and loved him with that
love which was her DOOM"
The little white-palnted chapel on the
hill became more popular than ever with
the people, white-skinned and red-skinn-
ed, at Sacred Heart.
Blanche Brooke was an ardent work
er in church affairs. Her clear, cult
waited voice made delightful melody for
the congregation. Her supple fingers drew
music from the keys of the organ each
Sabbath day. Hymns had never before
sounded so sweet to the young pastor
Day by day their lives became more
necessary to each others happiness.
The weeks went by then the months,
but no word of love was spoken. With
loves unuttered language, though each
had OWNED the others secret
A year passed. The young people met
daily. Their admiration for each other
began to reveal itself in various little
ways. Their neighbors and friends Cos
siped pleasantly about possible engage
ment. 1t was certainly a most suitable
match. It's contamination was doubtless
only question of time.
But the predictions of the people did
not come true. No engagement was an
nounced. Time went on until another
year had elapsed.
Everybody wondered and whispered
their wonder, and sometimes the whis-
pers reached the ears of those most con-
cerned-the principals in this romance,
which was to become a terrible tragedy.
Blanche Brookes black eyes no lon
ger sparkled. In their depths was a visit
full. far-away look.
And as the months slipped by this
usefulness deepened into sadness. The
quietude which now marked the girls
every movement was noted by all, so
sharply In contrast was it with her for
mer vivacity. The scarlet lips lost their
hue and curved into lines of settled sor-
row. The black eyes mirrored the
troubled soul. but the voice of Blanche
Brooke gave no utterance to that which
oppressed her. She came and went like
shadow where sunshine once had BEEN
Then the people of the community
gradually grew impatient. They were
not accustomed to mysteries. They