Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1906-10-05

for the professor had stopped and was
examining the carpet infinitely.
II thank you, thank you"
"Fray do not mention it. Cousin Rob
ert. If you and the professor will excuse
me, will step across and take last
look at poor little Hermann. Where are
his roomsP
Before could answer, the professor
was on his feet.
"Pray accept me as your gaide," said
he, moving towards the door. Graden
bowed his thanks like a polite elephant.
l followed the pair down the stairs.
1t was growing late, and the narrow
streets Of the students quarter were
well nigh deserted. A moon, like pol
ished shield, hung over the old castle
above u.s. picking out each turret and
parapet in silver grey against the sleep
ing woods that swept upward to the
skyline Across our path the gabled
house cast broad, fantastic pools Of
shadow. A wind had risen with the
moon, and sighed and quivered in the
roofs and archways. Once. from a dis
tant tavern, came the faint mutter
of a rousing chorus, but soon it was
swallowed and carried away by the
midnight breezes.
We had not far to walk, and in Eve
minutes the professor was tapping dis
creetly with an ugly devil-face of a
knocker on Won Stockmar's door. Pres
emily the bolt was drawn, and Hans, the
grey-bearded servant of the dead man,
stood in the doorway, a lamp held high
above his head. He blinked upon us
moodily, with eyes dimmed by old age
and recent tears, till, catching sight Of
Graden's huge bulk, he stepped forward
with a snort of surprise, flashing the
light in his face as he did SO.
"Ah! Goodness but it is Heinrich der
GrosseP' he stammered. Zach! Herr
Heinrich, but have you forgotten Hans
of the Schlagers, servant of the honor
able corps of the Saxo Borusen"
mo, no." said Graden, shaking the
veteran by the hand. $50 our little Her
mann took you for his servant, as he
promised? This is sad day for us both,
old friend. Tell me, how did it happenP'
do not ask me, Herr Heinrich. Ny
mind wanders-I, who served him nigh
on twenty years and was as a father and
mother to him.
The worthy fellow put down the lamp
in the little hall into which he had
led us, and mopped his eyes with hand
that trembled with emotion.
But Graden persisted in his quiet way
and soon extracted the details. 1t seemed
that it was the custom of the dead pro-
fessor to take a nap after his midday
meal. That afternoon, however, his
sleep was unduly prolonged, and at four
Hans, who knew he had an engagement
about that hour, slipped In to wake him.
His master was lying on the couch in his
bedroom, where he was wont to take his
siesta. But he was in a curious, hud-
died position and breathing stertorously.
Hans failed to rouse him, became
alarmed, and hurried off for a neighbor-
ing doctor. That gentleman diagnosed
the case as q sudden and severe chill
which had settled on the lungs, causing
violent Inflammation. Everything posi-
BILE was done, but by eight he was dead.
Beyond the remarkable violence of the
seizure, the doctor had said, there was
nothing in the symptoms. Overwork had
doubtless undermined the constitution
and rendered it vulnerable to a sudden
attack.
sand while he was asleep-had he
visitors?" asked Graden.
"The street door is never locked dur
ing the day."
'But would you not have heard the
steps?"
at was my custom to sleep too. Herr
professor allowed it."
$50 should like to take a last look
at your poor master, friend Hans. By
the way, Cousin Robert, where is our
guide the learned MarnacP l did not
see him leave the house."
"Perhaps the Professor Marnac has al
ready gone to my masters room, the
second to the right on the first floor,
suggested the old servant.
(To be continued.)