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 ry
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 A EOMAE"OE. 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN OF 
 
 A. E. KATSCH, 
 
 BY 
 
 EMILY K. STEINESTEL. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 1875.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
 
 PT 
 JLt 
 
 KISTIIHE 
 
 TO THE EEADEE. 
 
 THE beauty of a translation consists in the har- 
 mony of the guise in \vhich it appears. Much of the 
 spirit of the original is often lost through the im- 
 possibility of transmitting idioms and the wit or sense 
 contained in dialect or provincialism. To entertain 
 the reader, and make him forget he is perusing a 
 translation, in the smooth flow of the language into 
 which it has been adopted, is the first duty of a 
 translator. 
 
 E. E. S. 
 
 ST. Louis, 1875.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ABOUT nine o'clock in the evening, Judge Berndal, 
 of Koppelfelden, hurriedly entered his open carriage, 
 impatient to return to his home, some two miles dis- 
 tant. 
 
 Business impossible to postpone to the morrow had 
 detained him long after the usual business hours. 
 
 " Take the forest road," he said to his coachman. 
 "It is quite as good as the main road at this season of 
 the year, and we gain half an hour's time." 
 
 "Just so, just so," returned that worthy, nodding his 
 head in approval, cracking his whip, and animating 
 his horses with an encouraging sound from his tongue, 
 as he obediently guided them into the narrow road indi- 
 cated by his master. 
 
 This avenue was guarded by rows of white-robed 
 birch-trees, standing sentinel-like at the entrance of a 
 densely-grown pine forest, between whose massive 
 bodies an occasional hundred-year-old gnarled oak 
 asserted his supremacy by pertinaciously entangling 
 his branches in the tops of the dark-crowned pines, 
 obstinately prohibiting the moon and stars from in- 
 dulging in any inquisitive prying into the road below.
 
 6 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 But they could not prevent a silvery ray from stealing 
 in between the branches here and there and skipping 
 lightly along the path, or climbing like a playful squir- 
 rel up the weather-worn bark of some tree, playing 
 hide-and-seek with bough and twig ; or with lightning 
 speed it wojuld hop from tree to tree, hiding an instant 
 under the foliage, then leap down on to some mossy 
 spot by the roadside, dancing like a little elf a moment, 
 then run gleefully about among the shadows formed by 
 thousands upon thousands of little leaves, that were 
 quivering in a vain struggle to get away and join the 
 merry tournament, and sent their shadows down by 
 way of proxy. 
 
 The more the stately grumblers shook their tall 
 heads, and the more threateningly they motioned with 
 their long arms, the wilder became the dance, the more 
 wanton became the silvery sprites ; the little shadows 
 joined the merriment as if in spite, and recklessly they 
 danced and played in harmless confusion. 
 
 Those morose and surly grumblers need not shake 
 their heads in contentious disapproval. Youth must 
 have its play. 
 
 And why not, when it is conducted with modesty 
 and honor? Moreover, the air was mild and agreeable; 
 a grateful atmosphere after the oppressive heat of a 
 July day. 
 
 Keeping the silent merry-makers company were 
 myriads of beetles and insects, flying in the air, or rest- 
 ing on the rusty bark of the trees, or alighting softly 
 on the ground, casting their phosphorescent rays in 
 thoughtful precaution along the road, a beacon against 
 accident.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 7 
 
 Judge Berndal's vehicle presented a very respectable 
 and comfortable appearance. It was elegantly uphol- 
 stered, and finished in a style as rare at that time as it 
 was desirable. 
 
 Improved causeways and carriage-springs were more 
 noted for their absence than people who owned an 
 equipage of any sort were willing to admit, even in the 
 face of murderous jolting and danger of broken bones. 
 
 "Belton, my pipe!" said the judge, feeling in his 
 own pocket for the necessary articles with which to 
 light it. 
 
 His pockets were of leather, and he never could be 
 induced to have them made of any other material. At 
 the advanced age of eighty, he used to boast that he had 
 never lost an article in his life, simply because he 
 never had been subjected to the civilization of a torn 
 pocket. 
 
 "Here she is, judge, loaded to the brim," said Bel- 
 ton, turning partly around and handing the silver- 
 mounted meerschaum to his master, who leaned back 
 in the cushions to enjoy his comfort and his pipe. 
 
 He was anxious to reach home, and bore the jolting 
 and discomfort with tolerable resignation, and only an 
 occasional impatient exclamation escaped him when an 
 unusual rough contact of the front of the carriage 
 and his face disturbed him, or an uncommon flight 
 among the branches overhanging the road unseated 
 him for a moment. 
 
 But where are his thoughts? 
 
 Far, far in advance of the nimbly-trotting horses; 
 heedless of obstacles and idle contemplation, they reach 
 home.
 
 8 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Not pausing in confab or greetings in the cheerful 
 sitting-room, they fly direct up-stairs, and halt, breath- 
 less and listening, before a certain door, beneath whose 
 dark portal a faint, glimmering ray of light shines, a 
 melancholy streak, forcing its way into the dark ante- 
 chamber. 
 
 A faint and frail gleam of hope indeed ; but it says 
 to the anxious thoughts in waiting, 
 
 "See, I am still burning. All is not lost!" 
 
 It gives them wonderful comfort and courage, and, 
 with a gigantic effort, they press through the narrow 
 space and enter the room, 
 
 "Now," says the judge to his advance couriers, 
 "take observations." 
 
 It is a large gable room: the walls are tinted yellow; 
 evidently it is a sleeping-apartment. The window 
 opposite the door is heavily curtained ; before it stands 
 a table, on which a lamp is burning, shaded so deeply 
 by its green screen that the room presents a dismal 
 appearance ; but from it the hopeful beam is cast across 
 the door-sill, escaping into the dark ante-chamber, greet- 
 ing the new-comers encouragingly. 
 
 It is a chamber of sickness. 
 
 The table is covered with bottles, or vials, and little 
 gayly-papered boxes, labeled " Every two hours one 
 teaspoonful," or, " To be given as directed." Keeping 
 them company, they find a cup, teaspoons, a teapot, and 
 a spirit-lamp, for preparing warm drinks. 
 
 In one corner of the room stands a large bedstead, 
 and nestled lovingly beside it is a little willow cradle. 
 
 On the other side of the room stands a crib. 
 
 It is emp'y.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 9 
 
 But a few days ago it had been occupied by a bright 
 boy of four years, the oldest son of Judge Berndal. 
 
 The heart's delight of his parents, developed phys- 
 ically beyond his years, precocious and soulful, his 
 brown curls framing in the picturesque beauty of a 
 healthy, beaming countenance, large blue eyes gazing 
 fondly yet mischievously about him, the rosy lips, 
 with their sweet kisses and singular questions, the 
 childish laughter and shouts of glee, all these clung 
 to the memory of that empty crib. 
 
 Ah! never again shall that mother's hand smooth 
 those wavy curls; never again caress the blooming 
 cheeks, or see her happy face reflected in those tender, 
 beautiful eyes; never again press kisses on the ruby 
 mouth. The^oft, warm arms will never, never more 
 cling about her neck in the childish abandonment of 
 love. 
 
 Hushed is the laughter and silent his voice forever. 
 
 A few hours before his death he had complained 
 and drooped ; the anxious parents had sent for the 
 physician, and before his arrival the little fellow was 
 delirious. 
 
 The doctor stood beside the little bed, gazed long at 
 the restless sufferer, observed the rapid pulse, the quick, 
 short breathing, the broken exclamations, and thought- 
 fully rubbed his chin with his gold-headed cane. 
 
 " He is sick, he is very sick ; but we will hope for 
 the best," he softly muttered to himself, wrote a pre- 
 scription, and followed the father, who hastened out of 
 the house after the medicine, saying, "I shall return 
 shortly." 
 
 He did return, but his patient was no better. Other 
 
 A*
 
 10 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 applications and prescriptions followed without effect. 
 The next morning when he called, the pretty blue eyes 
 were already set, the uncertain breathing was soon fol- 
 lowed by the last terrible death-gasp. One long sigh, 
 the little body gave one spasmodic struggle. The boy 
 was dead. 
 
 The mother cast herself on the corpse. With a heart- 
 rending cry she pressed it to her breast &nd covered 
 the pale face with hot kisses and burning tears; she 
 would not, could not, believe this was all that was left 
 her of the living, blooming child that only yesterday at 
 this hour was chasing in joyous health through the 
 house, this cold, motionless hull lying in her arms. 
 
 At last, realizing the terrible truth, she cried aloud, 
 in her grief, 
 
 "Dead! Yes, dead! Oh, my God, my God! why 
 have you done this thing?" Again and again she 
 caressed the cold body, begging to be permitted to die 
 with him in her unutterable sorrow. 
 
 The judge stepped up to her, and, placing his arm 
 about her, said, in a voice choked with suppressed 
 tears, 
 
 "Lottie, dear Lottie, listen to me." 
 
 She looked up at him absently, and he repeated, 
 
 " Listen to me, Lottie !" 
 
 She seemed to comprehend ; she tenderly placed the 
 child on the pillows, and cast herself on her husband's 
 breast, crying, 
 
 "Ferdinand, he is dead, our boy; and I will die 
 too!" 
 
 " No, Lottie, not dead ; he has but now awakened to 
 everlasting life! He is not lost, we shall find him
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. H 
 
 again. Be comforted. The Lord gave, the Lord has 
 taken away, blessed be his name to all eternity." 
 
 Then he led her quietly, with little resistance, to the 
 other side of the room, and, standing beside the cradle, 
 he said, 
 
 "What will become of him, what of me, if you 
 leave us?" 
 
 The woman sank on her knees beside the slumbering 
 infant, sobbing, "Lord, my Lord! let me keep this 
 one ; spare this, my last, my only one ! Ferdinand, 
 forgive. I will not die ; I want to live, for you for 
 him." 
 
 And the pale, smiling angel the dead boy was 
 robed in gleaming white, and flowers were placed over 
 and around him. Another bed was prepared, in the 
 garden where all the blossoms are gathered together 
 that fall from the ever-blooming tree of humanity, to 
 ripen into fruitfulness in that life eternal. 
 
 That is why the little crib with the railings was 
 empty this evening. 
 
 On the other side of the room is the basket-cradle ; 
 beside it is seated a tall, slender female figure, bowed 
 over, listening to the fault breathing of the little 
 babe. 
 
 Her lovely, amiable face is pale, in startling contrast 
 to the deep-black hair that crowned her white brow, 
 and the heavy but beautifully-arched eyebrows, over 
 the naturally bright, roguish dark eyes, that now were 
 languid with weeping, like the dull glimmering of stars 
 through a misty cloud. 
 
 It was the bereaved mother of the dead boy, and the 
 anxious, prayerful mother of the sick infant lying be-
 
 12 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 fore her. It was between three and four months old, 
 this wee, sickly object, this burning, fever-stricken 
 shadow over which she was bending. How fervently 
 she kisses the pale lips, the thin little cheeks, and 
 withered hands ! Just so had the poor boy been from 
 the hour of his birth. And though, in a measure, 
 blameless, yet self-reproach was mingled with her 
 caresses when she thought of the cause of his suf- 
 fering. 
 
 They were at a concert, when she was taken prema- 
 turely ill. Her husband, alarmed beyond measure, 
 hastened home with her ; the hour was late, the servant 
 had retired, and neither thought of waking her before 
 the judge ran, with all dispatch, for nurse and phy- 
 sician. 
 
 The first, fortunately, was obtainable, and promised 
 immediate attendance. The doctor was away, and not 
 to be found. 
 
 Nearly an hour had been consumed in vain searching 
 before the breathless man returned home, and found, to 
 his terror and consternation, the nurse still standing 
 before the door. 
 
 She had pulled the bell nearly off, but no one had 
 opened. 
 
 With trembling hands the door was unlocked. 
 
 The servant-girl was sleeping the sleep of youth and 
 health. 
 
 Her mistress had reasons for not responding. 
 
 They found her in an insensible condition on the 
 sofa. At her feet, under the table, benumbed with 
 cold, unable to cry, scarcely breathing, lay the little 
 object she had given birth to.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 13 
 
 Frightened and confused, the judge gazed helplessly 
 at the nurse, who, with woman's adaptability and good 
 sense, came to his relief. 
 
 " First arouse the servant, then be off, and don't come 
 back without a doctor," ordered she. 
 
 The judge obeyed the good-natured but determined 
 woman so promptly and quickly, that long, long after, 
 his wife often playfully threatened to send for Mrs. 
 Wurpel, the nurse, when he neglected some request, or 
 resisted and combated her opinions. 
 
 The good woman has long since gone to her rest, 
 where there is neither courtship nor marriage, and 
 consequently she is emancipated from the arduous duties 
 of a profession that subjected her to much loss of rest 
 here below. 
 
 Mrs. Wurpel's experience told her that mother and 
 child were in danger, and she did not hesitate which to 
 succor first. 
 
 To be sure, she hastily picked up the infant, and, 
 wrapping it in the first cloth that came handy, laid it 
 on a chair, and gave her entire skill and attention to the 
 mother, without another thought to the young stranger, 
 whose advent into this most beautiful of worlds had met 
 with such a remarkably cold welcome. 
 
 Her endeavors were crowned with success. When 
 the judge returned with the physician, they were taken 
 to the patient, who had, with the assistance of the girl, 
 been carried to her room, and was, "under the circum- 
 stances," doing very well. 
 
 Somewhat pale and exhausted, but smiling, she 
 greeted her husband, who tenderly pressed her white 
 hand to his lips and heart. 
 
 2
 
 14 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 "Where is my babe? Bring me my babe/' pleaded 
 the young mother. 
 
 Quick as .an arrow sent from its bow, but noiseless 
 as the wind that chases the cloud from the blue-vaulted 
 sky, sped Mrs. Wurpel from the room, and down the 
 stairs into the apartment where lay the neglected child. 
 
 Death stared at her from its little face, but the ener- 
 getic woman was not frightened into hopelessness; she 
 understood her business, and battled with her old enemy 
 for the life of this insignificant morsel of humanity; and 
 the more obstinately he struggled for possession the 
 harder she labored to gain dominion, until she triumphed, 
 and the grim monster departed. 
 
 Peace to thy ashes, thou valiant woman ; two lives 
 hast thou saved in one night. How calm must have 
 been thy slumbers when the dawn saw thee taking thy 
 much-needed rest ! 
 
 A few weeks later found Mrs. Judge Berndal well 
 again ; but not so with the child. 
 
 He lived, that was all that could be said of the little 
 one. Although three months had passed, each day 
 brought with it the dread of death, each night the 
 mother watched, fearing the dawn would bear witness 
 of her sorrow for the dead. 
 
 The doctor shook his head quite wisely, and seemed 
 astonished to find life, when next he came. 
 
 Oh, mother-love, mother-love ! There is naught else 
 on earth can equal your sacrifices and renunciation, 
 your tenderness and faith, your courage and self-de- 
 nial. All that is noble and great, intrepid and pure, is 
 combined in you. The worshipful things of this world 
 are to you like the starry host of night, whose littleness
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 15 
 
 is lost in the brilliance of the god of day, such is your 
 love, O mother ! the glory, warmth, hope, the sun of 
 our being. Nothing, nothing can compare to your 
 love. 
 
 The preceding thoughts of Judge Berndal had found 
 the mother hovering thus over her babe ; but they were 
 not aware that she had watched beside it for hours, 
 almost wild with grief and remorse, no longer turning 
 around to look at the crib, opposite where she had 
 wrung her hands, crying, 
 
 " My God ! my God ! how is it possible that my bright, 
 strong, blooming boy must be taken from me without 
 warning, and the frail life that I had almost resigned 
 from its birth should linger in its hapless misery !" 
 Then, as if stricken, she rushed to the cradle, took the 
 babe in her arms, and, in frantic penitence, covered it 
 with kisses, exclaiming, 
 
 " Forgive me, forgive me, you poor little afflicted 
 one ! I did not love him more ; I love you just the 
 same ! Oh, no, no, no ! you shall not die ; I will watch 
 and tend and nurse you back to life, to health, to be 
 your mother's joy ! Oh, my child, I do not love you 
 less than him !" 
 
 She carried him pressed to her breast, kissing him 
 again and again, when the little one opened his eyes 
 and looked at her as if he comprehended the pain at 
 her heart. A change came over the wasted cheeks, a 
 playful movement of the pale lips, and, for the first 
 time in its existence, the child smiled. 
 
 Oh, incomprehensible heart of a mother, that can be 
 so moved by a smiling infant ! Grief, pain, and misery 
 seemed turned to heavenly joy.
 
 16 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 " He smiled ! he laughed !" the astonished and happy 
 mother exclaimed. " Oh, iny babe, all that is left, my 
 only one, smile again ! just once more, my sweet! then 
 all will be well; you will live, my precious angel!" 
 
 Again the child smiled. Consoled and 'happy, she 
 walked about the room, and when her glance rested on 
 the empty crib, her heart no longer pained her with 
 that hopeless anguish of inconsolable bereavement ; she 
 no longer saw him wrestling with death, or lying stark 
 and cold, but radiant and glorified with joy, he smiled 
 at her in the company of angels, dead, yet living, the 
 same, and yet more beautiful. 
 
 She realized now that he was not lost to her, his 
 spirit was with her at all times. She knew why the 
 little sick one on her arm laughed to-day for the first 
 time. 
 
 The other darling no longer needed her care : he was 
 to remain with her only as a blissful memory ; he had 
 transferred to the little sick brother all the care, tender- 
 ness, and duties of her mother-heart, and with a pure, 
 sweet resignation she accepted the trust, and promised 
 her first-born to fulfill faithfully the obligation. She 
 felt strengthened and comforted. 
 
 Did that angel know how much she would need both 
 strength and patience, that the time would come when 
 years of trials and vexations would prove, sorely test, 
 the solemn promise ? 
 
 When the mother looked again, the angel vision was 
 gone, but the transfigured form of her boy, with the 
 holy, happy salutation in his shining orbs, remained 
 with her, buried in her heart to the end of life. 
 
 But the child in her arms began to droop and fret ;
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 17 
 
 her whole attention was needed; sitting, walking, or 
 standing, it was all the same ; medicine, nothing availed. 
 
 The child was dying, and yet he had smiled to-day 
 for the first time ! 
 
 Her solicitude became greater momentarily, but she 
 dared not leave him, fearing the faint spark of life 
 would be extinguished ; she dared not trust her anx- 
 ious eyes to leave his face, for fear they would miss the 
 last breath she expected him to take with each labored 
 effort. 
 
 She had sent for the doctor, but he had been called 
 some miles out in the country. She prayed eagerly for 
 the return of her husband. Hour after hour went by, 
 sorrowful, fearful hours, passed in hoping for the best 
 and enduring the distressing uncertainty, before her 
 the visage of death, behind her the little crib that re- 
 mained tenantless the first time this evening; but the 
 feeble ray of light still shone over the door-sill, guard- 
 ing its portal, as if saying, " See the light burn ; there 
 is hope yet." 
 
 We have taken the liberty of following the thoughts 
 of Judge Berndal over the illuminated door-sill, into 
 the room, and now that we are aware of the cause of 
 his anxiety to get home, we can return to them, who, 
 during our absence, have not slackened their horses' 
 speed, and are advancing rapidly towards us. 
 
 We meet at a point where forest and ocean almost 
 join ; the road leads along the border of one and shore 
 of the other, until we come to the bridge. 
 
 " Ah ! splendid ! wonderful !" exclaimed the judge, 
 just as the carriage left the woods and entered the road 
 leading to the city. 
 
 2*
 
 18 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Belton turned completely around in his seat, looking 
 at his master beaming with pleasure, saying, with mod- 
 est pride, "Just so, judge, just so; but I know well 
 enough what our horses can do and our wagon can 
 stand. I'll venture to turn them safely on a plate at 
 full speed. Yes, sir !" 
 
 Belton was under the impression that the compli- 
 mentary exclamation uttered by the judge when they 
 came in view of the ocean scene was intended for him 
 and his skillful management at this critical turn in the 
 road. 
 
 " I know it, Belton ; you are a famous driver," said 
 the judge, smiling quietly. He was too good-natured 
 to disturb or destroy the happiness that glowed on the 
 broad countenance of the faithful fellow, like a golden 
 sunset in the western horizon. 
 
 Belton carried the supposed compliment in his heart 
 as long as he lived. He ever after boasted that his 
 master, Judge Berndal, was the best judge of horse- 
 manship in the country. " Indeed," he would inva- 
 riably finish with, "indeed, you can take my word 
 for it he knows what's what. I remember one night 
 I was driving him home over a terrible road, and all 
 at once my master slapped me on the shoulder, for 
 sheer delight, saying, ' Splendid, Belton ! perfectly 
 glorious ! The king's coachman could not have done 
 better.'" 
 
 Belton, exalted in his own esteem, guided his horses 
 with exceeding care, but at the same time in a manner 
 quite in keeping with his genius. The lines wore 
 held by hands that knew their business. The very 
 whip seemed to partake of the spirit of the master, and
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 19 
 
 proclaimed a superiority by repeated reports, " Behold ! 
 here comes one who understands his business." Belton 
 was happy as a king. 
 
 He needed all his boasted talent ere long ; just before 
 they came to the bridge the space between the road 
 and the water was obscured by weeds and shrubs, and 
 here the horses became unmanageable, and it was just as 
 much as their positive driver could do to make them 
 understand that good behavior was a most desirable 
 thing; whatever cause they might have for shying, it 
 was unwarrantable in a pair of full-blooded horses and 
 a driver quite comme il faut. 
 
 Belton of course was the victor. The object that 
 had startled the animals was something white that rose 
 suddenly above the bushes and as quickly disappeared 
 again, followed by a singularly pitiful cry. 
 
 Judge Berndal ordered a halt, and alighted from his 
 carriage to seek the cause of the noise. 
 
 The white object proved to be a woman's under- 
 garment of finest linen ; a puff of wind had raised it 
 from where it now hung peacefully on the bush. A 
 rather singular phenomenon at such an hour and such 
 a place, but nothing to discompose a courageous man. 
 
 The cry also was no delusion : it came from the mouth 
 of a babe lying on a pile of female garments in the 
 shadow of the bushes, among which glistened a Pom- 
 padour most elegantly embroidered in beads and floss 
 and silver filigree. 
 
 The child, a boy, probably between four and five 
 months old, had evidently been there for some time ; it 
 was hoarse and weak from crying ; his voice had lost 
 that penetrating shrillness and energy which healthy
 
 20 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 children display when nature demands nourishment, 
 regardless of the most disagreeable circumstances. 
 
 Facing this situation, it is not to be supposed our ex- 
 cellent judge should feel particularly comfortable. 
 
 To be watched and rewarded like Endymion was for 
 the loving husband, even Judge Berndal, not exactly 
 detestable, but to be met like a \vatchful Actaeon, if 
 perchance the owner of those garments should rise out 
 of the bushes suddenly, the idea was distasteful, vio- 
 lating, in the opinion of the judge, that strict regard 
 for decorum and good manners natural to him. 
 
 He was about to return noiseless as he had come, 
 when the pitiful fretting of the child began again, and 
 the thought occurred that perhaps all was not as it 
 should be here. 
 
 He hesitated a moment, then called out, " Woman, 
 where are you ? Come forward ! Must that poor child 
 cry itself to death ?" 
 
 All remained silent; he called again: "Woman, 
 answer me, and I will go my way again !" 
 
 No reply. Again and again he called in vain, until 
 a horrible mistrust entered his mind, and he ran to the 
 edge of the water, hunted, called louder, came back, 
 searched through bush and shrub, but no trace of living 
 creature could he find: only an occasional bird startled 
 from its rest by the beating of the bushes. 
 
 Belton, in the mean time, sat quietly holding his horses 
 and permitting himself to endure the unusual exertion 
 of thinking, and nearly unsettled his reason by won- 
 dering for whose benefit his master could possibly be 
 testing the strength and vigor of his lungs. 
 
 When he heard him halloo, " Where are you ? An-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 21 
 
 swer!" Belton thought he must have lost his way or 
 got bewildered, perhaps bewitched. Belton knew such 
 things had occurred to some very excellent people in 
 his day. So he cracked his whip until the frightened 
 horses reared and plunged, and hallooed back, 
 
 " Just so, judge, j ust so. Here I am, right here on the 
 spot." 
 
 "Very well, Belton," called back the judge, shortly; 
 "just wait until I return." 
 
 Belton did as he was ordered, without annoying his 
 brains further on the subject, until, chancing to turn his 
 head, he perceived his master coming with his arms 
 covered with all kinds of female paraphernalia, while 
 pressed close to his breast he held a squalling infant 
 that he was trying to pacify with that peculiar hushing 
 sound mothers make in lullaby. 
 
 Judge Berndal possessed some theoretical knowledge, 
 acquired as a man and father, and in the present instance 
 made practical use of it. 
 
 Belton's mouth, which at its smallest presented an un- 
 usual facial breach, now opened with an incomprehen- 
 sible and enormous expanse, while his watery blue eyes 
 stared with an expression of such undisguised stupidity 
 that he looked more like a wooden nut-cracker than a 
 being of flesh and blood. 
 
 " Wa-wa-what is that, a a child ?" he stammered. 
 
 "Yes, Belton, a child; I fear greatly a motherless one. 
 Take these things and help me arrange them. Now 
 give me the child. There; drive with all possible speed 
 for home now." 
 
 Half an hour later, just as the bell of St. John's 
 struck the hour of twelve, the steaming horses drew up
 
 22 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 in front of the house; and just as the judge entered the 
 front door, bearing in his arms the stranger-child, the 
 door of the yellow room opened rapidly, and the little 
 ray of light on the sill became a large volume, spread- 
 ing its beams over the hall and stairway, vainly trying 
 to follow the form of the anxious wife who hastened to 
 meet her husband. 
 
 Blessed, cherished ray of light! we have been friends 
 many years. Long may he brighten the doorway of 
 that house ! 
 
 Do you ask why I am so interested in a poor little 
 insignificant ray of light? I am no, I was, that help- 
 less, motherless babe brought over its welcoming thresh- 
 old in the midnight hour. 
 
 Mrs. Berndal rushed down the steps, and, with a glance 
 beyond the outline of his form, threw her arms around 
 her husband with such a pressing embrace that the wee 
 third party lying between the two was roused from his 
 slumber, and gave decided evidence of a fine voice for 
 infant eloquence by shrieking lustily. 
 
 The answering cry from the surprised lady was cer- 
 tainly not astonishing. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, what have you there, Ferdi- 
 nand?" she exclaimed, when she had recovered breath 
 to speak. 
 
 "A child. Do you not hear? But let us go up-stairs, 
 and I will explain." 
 
 A few moments later the door of the yellow room 
 closed on the three. 
 
 "Thank the Lord that you are here at last ! Bernhard 
 has been so ill again, I have suffered terrible anxiety 
 about him; and the doctor did not come, and you re-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 23 
 
 mained so long. He is sleeping now. Hush, you little 
 screecher! you will wake him! What child is this?" 
 
 " It is hungry, I expect ; I found it near the high 
 bridge, crying. I am under the impression its mother 
 has found a watery grave there." 
 
 "You poor little thing! And hungry, is it? Quick, 
 my dear, give it to me ; let me quiet him. Poor babe ! 
 he must be about the age of our Bernhard." 
 
 As she spoke, she placed him at her breast, and the 
 starved infant did more than justice to the meal thus 
 placed before him ; the sobbing that followed his cries 
 succumbed to the satisfaction of the occupation that 
 now required all his energies. 
 
 The judge returned to Bel ton, and together they 
 brought the articles of wearing-apparel, so strangely 
 found, into the house ; then he related his extraordinary 
 adventure to his wife. 
 
 An hour after, the house was hushed and silent : the 
 judge and his wife slept ; Bernhard slumbered in his 
 cradle, as if determined he would have nothing further 
 to do with death and dying ; the little stranger rested 
 quietly in the crib bedstead, as if the loss of parents was 
 a matter that could not possibly affect him. 
 
 Early the following morning Judge Berndal notified 
 the police authorities of the circumstance. An investi- 
 gation followed ; the water was dragged, and about a 
 hundred feet from the place where the child was found 
 they fished out the body of a woman. She could not 
 have been more than twenty years of age, a beautiful 
 young woman, evidently in good circumstances, judg- 
 ing from the articles of jewelry found on her person,
 
 24 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 ear-rings, a plain gold wedding-ring, and two other 
 rings set with diamonds of considerable value. 
 
 The small white hands had not been accustomed to 
 labor, and the clothing was of the finest material and 
 of fashionable make, giving evidence of the wearer's re- 
 finement and station. 
 
 A satchel that lay beside the child when found con- 
 tained an elegant pocket-handkerchief, marked M. T., 
 the same letters on the linen underwear, a bunch of 
 keys, a gold watch and chain, a purse containing some 
 silver and gold pieces, a memorandum-book containing 
 papers to the value of several thousand dollars, a little 
 withered bouquet of violets and wild flowers, wrapped 
 about with a glossy curl of short hair, a torn letter, a 
 portion of which was gone, written in feminine chirog- 
 raphy, the date, address, and signature were missing; 
 the few lines read as follows : 
 
 . . " terrible fate, dear Maria ; but do not de- 
 spair, be brave for the sake of your Albert, who needs 
 you more than ever since the death of your husband. 
 I shall look for you as soon" . . 
 
 On the other side was written : 
 
 . . . "quite alone in this large house. Charles 
 entered the service heart and soul at the first call of the 
 King of Prussia to arms. We can comfort each other, 
 dear sister-in-law, for who can tell how soon I too shall 
 mourn a beloved husband's loss, and" . . . 
 
 Little information could be gathered from these 
 broken sentences beyond the surmise that the recipient 
 of the letter was a widow, that her son's name was 
 Albert, that Charles was her brother, and that the 
 writer, his wife, had invited her to make a visit. It
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 25 
 
 was more than probable that she had undertaken this 
 journey with the intention of going there. But who 
 was she? who was her brother? where did she come 
 from? and where was she going? There was no clue 
 by which the mystery could be unraveled. 
 
 A garrulous servant, or porter, from the tavern on 
 the road near the high bridge, volunteered the follow- 
 ing information : 
 
 " Yesterday, about noon, a coach halted at the ' Star ;' 
 an old lady and a young lady, and a lady with a baby 
 were the only passengers. The last-mentioned appeared 
 weak and sick, complained of the heat, and said she 
 was unable to continue her travels. She requested to 
 see my mistress, and I heard her ask if she could be 
 accommodated for the night. Then the mistress she 
 asked her to look at her rooms, and she showed her the 
 rose room. You know it, don't you, judge? No. 4, 
 with the painted ceiling and the flowered border. And 
 mightily pleased she was, and told the driver to fetch 
 her trunk right in the house ; and she not only made 
 him a nice little present, but paid him in full to Mor- 
 stadt, where the coach was going and she expected to 
 stop, full five miles farther. 
 
 " And when she bade her fellow-passengers farewell, 
 they said, ' Good-by, Mrs. Doctor' something, I don't 
 know what. Then she went directly to No. 4. I carried 
 up the traveling trunk, and she asked if she would be 
 able to secure transportation to Leipsic or Dresden 
 any time the following day ; and just as I was saying, 
 ' Certainly, Mrs. Doctor, certainly,' my mistress she 
 came with some lunch for the lady and milk for the 
 baby, and she told her the same thing. When I left
 
 26 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 the room she was lying on the sofa, and looked mightily 
 pleased at the little one, who was on the bed kicking 
 up his heels and squirming contentedly. She said she 
 needed rest, then she would be in a condition to travel 
 to-morrow. 
 
 " She must have slept until about seven o'clock, when 
 she ordered a light supper, and said she would require 
 nothing more that night. 
 
 " Later in the evening I saw her in the garden ; 
 when she left it I cannot say ; the evening was fine, 
 and we were so busy with visitors that none of us gave 
 a thought to the strange lady, supposing of course when 
 she got tired of the garden she went back to her room. 
 
 " You can't imagine our fright this morning when 
 we discovered that she and the child were missing, the 
 bed and everything untouched. We can't explain it at 
 all. My master and mistress are in such a state about 
 it, that such a thing should have happened in their 
 house ; they sent me and three others out to see if we 
 can't find some traces of her." 
 
 " But the trunk is still there?" asked the judge, trust- 
 ing its contents would cast some light on the affair. 
 
 " To be sure, judge, the trunk is still there." 
 
 At this moment the corpse of the unfortunate woman 
 was found and brought to shore, and the man from the 
 " Star" recognized their guest of yesterday. 
 
 The remains were taken in charge, and the judge and 
 police-officers betook themselves to the tavern to con- 
 tinue their investigations. 
 
 The contents of the trunk were simply wearing-ap- 
 parel for mother and child. 
 
 All inquiry and advertising proved fruitless, beyond
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 27 
 
 the little information gained from the driver of the 
 coach with whom she came to the tavern. He did not 
 know her name, but gave the address and name of the 
 other two lady passengers. They in turn testified that 
 when they entered the coach the unfortunate woman and 
 her babe were the occupants before them, and during 
 the morning's conversation they discovered from her 
 remarks that she was a widow, her husband a physician 
 who had very recently died of typhoid fever, and that 
 she was on her way to relatives in Saxony. They had 
 no recollection of any names being mentioned. 
 
 With this limited cognizance of facts the investigation 
 was exhausted. 
 
 The unknown mother found a resting-place in the 
 church-yard, beside the grave of the child whose empty 
 crib received her infant. And Judge Berndal was her 
 only mourner. 
 
 None knew her, and no one missed her in that city 
 where she was buried, least of all her own child. 
 From the moment his little head rested on the breast 
 of the judge's wife and his tender form pressed the pil- 
 lows of that vacant little bed, her bereaved heart adopted 
 the young foundling. 
 
 It seemed as if God and her first-born sent him to 
 console her, and her husband could not find it in his 
 heart to part them. 
 
 And he was satisfied. The singular circumstances 
 that united the dead and the living seemed brought 
 about by an influence that appeared providential. The 
 child's very helplessness appealed to all that was kind 
 and sympathetic in Judge Berndal's nature. 
 
 He became his legal guardian through the sanction
 
 28 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 of the law ; and the orphan found father, mother, and 
 brother in the home their hearts opened to him. 
 
 The event was soon forgotten. Who was supposed 
 to take much notice of such a trifling matter as a strange 
 woman's death, or a forsaken child,' when daily thou- 
 sands upon thousands of children were bereft of fathers 
 and homes ? What weight had those two objects in the 
 scale by which human life was weighed in that terrible 
 bloody struggle for liberty in the year 1813? 
 
 People ceased to remember, after a time, that Albert 
 was not in reality as in seeming the oldest and beloved 
 son of Mr. and Mrs. Berndal. 
 
 The boy thrived, unconscious of the mystery that 
 enveloped his parentage. His youthful heart was 
 spared the knowledge of his outcast condition and his 
 real mother's unhappy death, that would have been a 
 baneful thorn to all his boyish joys ; his playmates, per- 
 chance, would have used the subject to oppress him 
 with the undeserved shame of his position. 
 
 How often has not a painful yet thoughtless remark, 
 uttered in deriding anger between children, cast a shadow 
 of indescribable sorrow over the whole future of the 
 unfortunate at whom it was hurled ! He who utters 
 them scarcely comprehends their force, but their object 
 receives the cruel dart. It remains, and subtly racks 
 heart and brain until understood, and, like the worm 
 in the bud, it destroys the perfect bloom. The sensitive 
 soul wounded in youth never recovers. 
 
 Fortunately, the domestics in the house at the time of 
 Albert's advent changed their abode soon after. Belton, 
 whose father died about this time, returned to his home 
 in another part of the province, and took with him for
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 29 
 
 wife the maid-servant. Their successors remained in 
 ignorance of the matter, and consequently could not 
 gossip about it. 
 
 He was such a strong, healthy boy, he could easily 
 pass for an older brother to the delicate, suffering Bern- 
 hard, until they were three years of age, when the 
 latter also began to develop in health and spirits, and 
 our family increased by the arrival of a sister, who 
 was named Matilda, and later, another, who was called 
 Martha. 
 
 It was at the time of her birth that my earliest 
 recollections serve me; all that occurred before is not 
 unlike fleeting shadows that memory cannot grasp. 
 
 On that day I clearly remember of having formed a 
 tender regard for Mrs. Wurpel ; and a monstrous paper 
 of sweetmeats that she divided between us, and told us 
 that the stork, had brought us a little sister, had, in fact, 
 thrown the poor little thing down the chimney, paper 
 of candy and all, and, on the condition that we were quiet, 
 well-behaved children, we might eat them all up, but 
 not go into mamma's room until she came to show us our 
 new sister. 
 
 We promised, and remained faithful until the last 
 bonbon had been devoured; then we became wild for 
 just one peep at her. At last we were permitted to 
 enter, only one glance, and we were sent into the garden, 
 promising to keep "mousie quiet," and immediately set 
 up an unearthly shouting to the storks on top of the 
 house for some more sisters. We were possessed of a 
 fearful longing for them since the discovery that the 
 little things could fetch such remarkably large candy- 
 parcels; the storks also came in for their share of flat- 
 
 3*
 
 30 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 tery and praise since the important knowledge so re- 
 cently made of their power. 
 
 For days and months and years we begged in vain, 
 until the identical little sister joined her voice with ours 
 in pleading, but without avail. 
 
 Our home was an old-fashioned, strong-built, gable- 
 roofed house, with great square fire-places. When Judge 
 Berndal first occupied it with his bride a pair of storks 
 built their nest on the chimney of the kitchen; and 
 when the old ones brought food for the young, it not 
 uufrequently occurred, as they greedily seized at the 
 provision, it fell from their bills down the chimney to 
 the hearth; and as worms, toads, or insects were not 
 desirable dainties on the family table, either the cooking 
 apparatus or the storks had to be removed. The storks 
 did not seem inclined to change, so arrangements were 
 made by which our bill of fare would not be surpris- 
 ingly increased by the unexpected addition of a toad, a 
 squirming lizard, or an appetizing number of worms. 
 
 Such curiosities we had often noticed flying down 
 the chimney, but never another palatable paper of sweet- 
 meats or dear little sister did they grant us. 
 
 ' For thirty years our storks returned with the spring, 
 and then a spring came and brought us its usual greet- 
 ing, but not our storks. I cannot forget that year; it 
 was a fatal, unhappy one for us all. 
 
 In vain the judge and his wife watched for their 
 storks. They did not return ; their nest was destroyed, 
 and the last fragments of the ruins were scattered by the 
 winds. It was a sad, sad day for the two old people 
 under that roof.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 31 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IN looking into the past, calling memory to mirror 
 the scenes of my youth, I cannot help reflecting on the 
 changes that have taken place. 
 
 The world appeared so different then, sinless and 
 harmless, childlike and merry. The summer seemed 
 warmer and sunnier, the winter brought more snow and 
 ice. Nothing looks to-day as it did then. Nature has 
 not changed, but people have wonderfully, at least the 
 outward form has varied. 
 
 Then we were on the threshold of another century, 
 and some of the customs, manners, and fashions of the 
 old clung to it with a pertinacity that excited ridicule, 
 and to us children appeared phenomenal. Already 
 the ostentatious manner of dressing was being super- 
 seded by the regimental fashion of to-day, and it was 
 no longer possible to distinguish an individual's station 
 in life by the peculiarity of his costume. 
 
 Where are those wonderful old gentlemen who re- 
 minded one of some well-preserved dried flowers in the 
 heart of a fresh bouquet ? those pilgrims from the other 
 century, with the powdered heads and silk knee-breeches 
 and shining buckles, and their gayly-embroidered waist- 
 coats, and their remarkable coats with their enormous 
 steel buttons, supported by the long Spanish cane, with its 
 pearl or porcelain head reaching to the face of its owner ? 
 
 Where are those grave gentlemen who could not be
 
 32 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 induced to part with the beloved pig-tail that trailed so 
 honestly down their backs, to the inexhaustible amuse- 
 ment of us young folks ? 
 
 Where are those ancient dames that promenaded daily 
 by our windows, those tender, faithful guardians of 
 three or four lazy, snarling, snappish, growling little 
 " pugs," with their brown fur, and crop-ears, and black, 
 flat, velvet noses, above which the round, glistening 
 bullet eyes protruded? And where are the dogs them- 
 selves ? soon they will be a myth, and none remain to 
 tell their eyes have beheld a veritable " pug." 
 
 And those little old women who made the streets so 
 lively every Sabbath, before and after church, with their 
 short costumes of all colors, surmounted with head-gear 
 in the shape of caps, whose ruffles partook almost of 
 the nature of wings, while others again carried on their 
 heads miraculous objects called head-dresses ; in one 
 hand they carried a hymn-book, in the other was clutched 
 an umbrella? 
 
 And where are those umbrellas, those portable roofs, 
 those family screens ? The thing by that name we carry 
 to-day would not protect the border of the cylindrical 
 object that graced the powdered head of a gentleman 
 of the olden time. The silken bonnet of his dame 
 would scarce find room beneath it. 
 
 What has become of all those little lanterns that, 
 with the coming of dusk, danced on all sides in the 
 hands of pedestrians, whose cunning glimmer guided 
 their footsteps safely to their homes ? 
 
 Tell me, if you can, where are all those well-favored, 
 substantial, corpulent people, those venerable citizens, 
 with their round, prominent stomachs and their good-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 33 
 
 natured, fat faces, crowned by tlie honorable night-cap ; 
 and those plump ladies, whose chins were sufficiently 
 double to admit of another countenance being built 
 from the surplus, and who passed the summer days in 
 the shady atmosphere of the cellar to prevent the heat 
 from sacrificing them? 
 
 Have they become a myth also in this restless age, 
 that knows so little of quiet it has no time to dream 
 of repose, that finds the world too small and steam too 
 slow? 
 
 AVe hear complaints about the heartlessness of this 
 generation. That is not just. How can we expect our 
 hearts to expand and develop under the miserable pro- 
 tection of our starved exterior ? In the perpetual chase 
 and chaotic bustle of life to-day, how can we grow a 
 double chin, or cultivate a righteous, honest convexity 
 of person ? 
 
 We were a happy, harmonious family ; \ve advanced 
 to the years of manhood and womanhood in the sun- 
 shine of a peaceful home ; our parents never indulged in 
 bitter contentions or weightier quarrels, that left their 
 traces on our conduct. Such altercations as sometimes 
 happened between us were immediately investigated by 
 our mother, and judicially settled, the real offender 
 brought to the necessary justice; however unimportant 
 the squabble proved, it still taught us civility towards 
 one another, and consequently obviated children's strife 
 
 I will not weary the reader by reciting the history 
 of my youth. Only one incident will I relate, recent 
 events having brought it to my mind with unexpected 
 force.
 
 34 UNDER THE STORKS' NES.T. 
 
 We were about fourteen years old when father took 
 us on a regular tramp through the country. It being 
 our first journey beyond the limits of our own town, 
 naturally Bernhard and I were enchanted with our good 
 fortune. The second day of our travels brought us to 
 Potsdam, where father intended visiting a friend of his 
 university days, a minister, living in the vicinity of 
 the Church of the Holy Ghost; and we asked permission 
 to leave him there and visit a swimming-school in the 
 neighborhood in the mean time. It was granted, with 
 the command to report at our hotel at the expiration of 
 an hour. 
 
 As we passed the church we observed an open door, 
 and Bernhard suggested that we explore the building. 
 The door, however, did not lead into the sanctuary but 
 into the bell-tower, whose spire reached three hundred 
 feet above the church. This opportunity to view the 
 city from the belfry was not to be lost. Without hesi- 
 tation we went up into the tower, where we found 
 carpenters' implements, and an open space leading to 
 the outside; we crept through, and found a scaffold- 
 ing erected reaching to the very top. It was noon : 
 evidently the workmen had gone to dinner, which also 
 accounted for the open door below. The view was 
 grand from this position ; but we were not satisfied. On 
 the spire was a large golden ball or globe. In the centre 
 of this was an iron rod, on the extremity of which 
 glittered an ornament representing the sun. To climb 
 on to that ball was our object. It would hold only one 
 at a time ; Bernhard went up first, and, as I surveyed 
 the earth beneath, I could see the crowd of people that 
 had collected, and the windows raised in every house,
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 35 
 
 and people gazing up at us. Bernhard could barely 
 touch the gilded sun, and exclaimed, as he made the 
 effort, " It is quite loose I" When he came down I 
 went up, and, being taller, I could place my hand 
 on the ornament easily. It faced east and west, and 
 I had the satisfaction of turning it to face north and 
 south. 
 
 The excitement below was increasing, and we thought 
 it advisable to slip out of it with all possible diligence, 
 and not long after we were in swimming and keeping 
 our own counsel. 
 
 A little behind time we reached the hotel, where, at 
 the dinner-table, the guests were discussing our silly 
 trick. A gentleman speaking to father remarked, 
 
 "The daring young scamps, I should like to have 
 the pleasure of dressing their jackets soundly with my 
 cane I" 
 
 I nudged Bernhard slyly, whispering, " You would, 
 eh?" but father looked at us sharply, saying, impress- 
 ively, 
 
 " Aha ! Do you happen to know the boys ? It's lucky 
 they disappeared when they did, after scaring the whole 
 town with their Satanic tricks : the police were after 
 them !" 
 
 Forty years after, I had occasion to visit Breslau. I 
 had promised to deliver a verbal message to a certain 
 lady there during my stay. I called, was presented to 
 the lady's two daughters, and, before I had an oppor- 
 tunity to discharge my commission, the lady said, 
 
 " Pardon me, sir, but are you not the gentleman who 
 turned the sun ?" 
 
 To say that I was astounded will not express my feel-
 
 36 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 ings. I stuttered and stammered awhile, and at last 
 managed to say, "Really, madam, I I am not an 
 astronomer!" 
 
 The young ladies endeavored with suffocating polite- 
 ness to disguise their laughter, and looked from my 
 dumfounded countenance into the face of their mother, 
 then gave vent to an irrepressible shout of mirth, in 
 which the old lady joined, and I did too, though rather 
 faintly. 
 
 "Oh, my! oh, my! what must you think of us?" 
 she exclaimed. "How stupid I am! e A thousand 
 pardons, dear sir. I meant to ask, were you not the 
 boy who turned the sun on the spire of the Holy Ghost 
 Church in Potsdam ?" 
 
 Memory grasped the situation. And she explained 
 that she was a niece of the minister my father visited 
 at that time, and happened to be in Potsdam, and 
 witnessed the scene from the window. 
 
 How the scrapes of our youth follow us! 
 
 Father was a strict disciplinarian. Card-playing was 
 prohibited. The girls had their friends, and we had 
 ours; and they were always welcomed by our elders in 
 the home circle, but they objected to our leaving home 
 often to visit others. 
 
 Thus it happened that our house was the resort for 
 evening amusements. The girls were excellent per- 
 formers on the piano. Bernhard played the violin admir- 
 ably. We had singing and dancing almost every winter 
 evening. Often when we were waltzing mother would 
 exclaim, "Oh, my carpets! You wild set, you are ruin- 
 ing my carpets!" Then some of the young men would 
 catch her in their arms and whirl around the room with
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 37 
 
 her until she begged for peace at any price, even the 
 sacrifice of her carpets. Oh, those delightful days in 
 the company of our little sweethearts, and the charm 
 of our first love! 
 
 Bernhard invariably found himself in the company of 
 a certain Augusta, the dearest, prettiest little creature 
 in our merry sociables, excepting of course sweet Lina, 
 a young miss who exhibited a perfect willingness to 
 tolerate me for a partner with noticeable frequency ; and 
 I acknowledge the young lady was the goddess that 
 ruled me ; but my love-affair was very private ; even 
 Bernhard was not taken into my confidence, and I never 
 found sufficient courage to tell my idol of the fervency 
 of my worship. We met often, but not, as she sup- 
 posed, by accident. I was well informed regarding her 
 movements, and knew precisely when she would pass a 
 certain corner in going to or returning from her music- 
 lessons, and she would look at me with her roguish 
 eyes and say, "Good-morning, Albert," and I would 
 wander away, feeling as if the sun shone remarkably 
 bright, even if it rained or stormed terribly. 
 
 The young people were all "paired off," and yet the 
 future separated their maturer years. The young girls 
 became young ladies and wives while we still occupied 
 a student's bench, longing for the time to draw near 
 when we were ready for the university. 
 
 None of us were heart-broken, though some fearful 
 sighing was done when, during our convivial evenings, 
 the glass was raised high over some jovial head with 
 the toast, " Here's to the loveliest !" followed by knowing 
 glances towards some sentimental one, and an "Ah, 
 
 brother, her name is " 
 
 4
 
 38 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST 
 
 We all survived the heart-siege, however; a few 
 preserved the forget-me-not blossom for many years in 
 their hearts; and poetry, oh, the poetry we composed! 
 I still have some written by my companions in those 
 days of innocent happiness. 
 
 We were all poets. To be sure, some of the odes 
 " To Her/' " To the Only One," " To the Beauteous 
 One," were highly flavored with the words " bliss" and 
 " delight," and it required no particular critic to note the 
 desperate strait in which the distressed author labored to 
 bring about the desired fancy or rhyme. Then again ( I 
 find some heart-rending lines " To the Faithless One," 
 fraught with undying grief, others replete with hints 
 of suicidal intent. 
 
 Summa summarum : they all recovered without suf- 
 fering any remarkable mental or physical injury. 
 
 Bern hard's wounds proved serious. Augusta was the 
 first " faithless one." She was prostrated with a severe 
 illness for long weeks before her marriage, and Bernhard 
 hovered in the vicinity of her home at all hours, and 
 fetched us the latest reports of her condition, but in such 
 tones that mother discovered the state of his feelings ere 
 long, and it was her sympathetic voice that brought him 
 the information that Augusta would be married imme- 
 diately on her recovery. Bernhard became deathly pale, 
 and quietly left the room. 
 
 During her convalescence he called on her once. 
 Her mother met him at the door and requested him to 
 see her, as she was sitting up, for the first time, in the 
 family room again. 
 
 He met her with outstretched hand, expressing his 
 pleasure at seeing her able to be up once more.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 39 
 
 " Thank you, dear Bernhard," she replied, pressing his 
 hand to her heart ; " and for your kind attention to me 
 during my sickness accept my heartfelt thanks." 
 
 While she was speaking, the tears rolled down her 
 pale, transparent face, making her look so frail that the 
 trembling boy believed it was an angel speaking. 
 
 Unable to utter the simplest response, he was relieved 
 from his painful embarrassment by the entrance of her 
 mother and a stranger, whom she introduced as Au- 
 gusta's future husband. 
 
 Poor Bernhard ! he strove manfully to face this last 
 blow. He pronounced a stereotyped congratulation and 
 hastily made his adieus. 
 
 In one hour from the time he left home he returned 
 a changed being. His face was pale, and his eyes shone 
 with a restless glance ; but no quivering of the lips or 
 trembling voice indicated the painful storm raging in his 
 soul. 
 
 At the dinner-table he proposed the health of the 
 " engaged," and none but the mother's keen, loving eye 
 observed any difference in his manner ; she understood 
 his enthusiastic, eccentric character, and she was appre- 
 hensive for the result. 
 
 I cannot say positively that mother gained sufficient 
 influence by her gentleness and silent sympathy to lead 
 him to confide in her, and thus saved him from some 
 desperate act; but, from words that were carelessly 
 spoken later, I judge such to have been the case. 
 
 But he was greatly changed. He did not lose the no- 
 bility of his good heart ; his disposition, that was always 
 gentle towards all living tilings, was not really changed ; 
 but he cultivated a harsh manner, rejected every at-
 
 40 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 tempt to offer sympathy, and seemed to take rude com- 
 fort in hugging his sorrow to himself. 
 
 For weeks he would remain absorbed in fits of obsti- 
 nate silence, then seemed to awake and indulge in the 
 liveliest humor, return to his neglected books and music, 
 and apply himself until he outstripped us all. 
 
 He avoided meeting the object of his unconquerable 
 passion in every possible manner, but when accident 
 brought him near her he suffered terribly in the en- 
 deavor to disguise the volcanic fires of his love; he 
 courted death rather than have her know his feelings. 
 
 Long after her marriage, and after she had removed 
 to another city with her husband, did he again recover 
 some of his former self-control. During that time 
 many very unpleasant scenes occurred to mar the former 
 harmony of our happy home. Bernhard's stubborn 
 will came in contact with father's sense of justice, and 
 mother's tact and remonstrance frequently subdued the 
 trouble. In this she was counseled and assisted by Mr. 
 Charles Thomas, a friend of father's and a near neigh- 
 bor, who could always be found at our house when he 
 was needed at his own.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 41 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MR. THOMAS was the most singular, sensible, droll, 
 yet kind-hearted piece of humanity that navigated on 
 two legs, one of which was made of the best kind of 
 wood in use for pedal substitutes. 
 
 He was a native of a neighboring town, and became 
 an associate and friend of father's while occupying the 
 same bench at school. In those early days the boy be- 
 came absorbed in the idea of theology ; his head and 
 heart were set on becoming a minister. 
 
 His father, unfortunately, had other views for him. 
 Being a "small grocer" himself, his wish was to see 
 Charles become great and respectable in the same line 
 of business. One day he came to the institute, took the 
 ambitious scholar with him to the city, and placed him 
 behind the counter of a grocery-dispensing friend. 
 
 Instead of the sacerdotal cassock his longing eyes be- 
 held dimly in the future, they tied a green apron under 
 his chin. Instead of Virgil and Homer, they placed 
 in his hands a pot of paste and a brush, and initiated 
 him into the science of making paper bags. 
 
 He who felt within his soul the gospel mission now 
 daily dispensed cheese, coffee, molasses, and the like 
 materialistic substances, to rude, rosy-cheeked servant- 
 girls and to dirty-faced youngsters, whom he constantly 
 reminded of their flowing noses, regardless of their want 
 of the necessary wherewith to wipe them. 
 
 4*
 
 42 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 His hands, that should have been raised in benedic- 
 tion, now were red and swollen, and smelt of fish-brine 
 and lamp-oil. Instead of giving benighted sinners the 
 gospel light, he handed them two-penny tallow dips. 
 Still, he found time in the little intervals to glance into 
 his beloved books, until the approach of the holidays: 
 then fruit had to be sorted, and barrel after barrel of 
 citron that had suffered from the frost was emptied into 
 tubs of cold water ; this he had to sort and lift out of 
 the ice and dry a piece at a time. Although he cried 
 until the tears fell into the tub, they did not take the 
 chill from the water or warm his purple hands. He 
 would not tolerate such horrors ; his patience gave out : 
 he ran away; he ran home to his father's house. 
 
 The old gentleman certainly must have been familiar 
 with that sweet story of the returned son, and that les- 
 son taught to parents in the Bible ; but the impression 
 on his obdurate heart could not have been lasting. 
 
 No fatted calf was slaughtered in honor of the return 
 of his unhappy scion ; no signs of a grand entertain- 
 ment greeted our youth. No ! with slow and deliberate 
 footstep his father went towards the door ; back of it, 
 hanging on a nail, was a long, lean, hungry-looking 
 strip of ox-hide, doubtless related to the fatted calf, but 
 its welcoming embrace was entirely too violent to be 
 pleasant or enticing. Charles had made its acquaintance 
 on former occasions, and understood the leaping energy 
 of its clinging welcome. 
 
 After the demonstrations were over and his father 
 was tired and went away, Charles crept into a corner 
 and wept, and his mother came and comforted him, and 
 the following morning accompanied him to the coach
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 43 
 
 that was to carry him back to his store and his work. 
 Kissing him, she asked, "You will, my boy?" 
 
 And he replied, firmly, "Yes, mother, I will." 
 
 Charles returned to the grocery business, sold his 
 Homer and Virgil and all his dear temptations, and 
 became an honest salesman until his time was out. 
 Then he turned traveling agent for several firms, until 
 a pair of bright eyes fascinated him, and he became a 
 Benedict, and possessor of considerable property through 
 his wife, but grew restless after awhile, and when the 
 fatherland called for troops he answered immediately 
 in heart and person. 
 
 In 1813 he went to the war. In 181 5 he was brought 
 home in an ambulance, glad to be cared for by the 
 loving wife. A hero, whose loss of limb was proudly 
 suffered for the possession of the iron cross, with its 
 silver band and little end of ribbon. 
 
 She knew her lieutenant had lost the first and won 
 the last in honor. 
 
 The soldier became again the merchant, and when 
 his wife bade him a long farewell, the distressed widower 
 found little pleasure in money-making. He had a snug 
 fortune of several hundred thousand dollars ; this he 
 invested safely, and concluded to rest the remainder of 
 his life. 
 
 His parents and an only sister were dead ; he had 
 no children. He purchased a beautiful property directly 
 opposite our house, and became to us like one of the 
 family. 
 
 This was Charles Thomas, and we called him Uncle 
 Thomas. 
 
 One day, being too unwell to go to school, I was
 
 44 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 seated in an out-of-the-way corner with my book before 
 me, and I became an unintentional listener to a conver- 
 sation between him and father. 
 
 " Corpo di Bacco I" Uncle Thomas exclaimed ; " would 
 you measure that youngster with the same ell that an- 
 swers for the sleepy-heads ? I've told you a thousand 
 times, brother Nanta, that a hedge-hog has not the soft 
 hair of a cat, nor can a lion fetch and carry or walk on 
 his hind legs like a poodle. Will you never compre- 
 hend ?" 
 
 "The boy provokes me beyond endurance with his 
 obstinacy !" 
 
 "Diavolo incarnate! You don't excite it with your 
 own irritable temper, do you? You hammer with all 
 your might on the rock with your steel, and wonder 
 where the sparks come from. Let him alone; because 
 he is not hanging on your neck all the time is no indi- 
 cation that he is lacking in love and respect, or is 
 wanting in intelligence because his nose is not an index 
 to jour thoughts. Santa Madre ! Bernhard is a boy to 
 be proud of, I say !" 
 
 "And pray tell me why Albert does not aggravate 
 and oppose me at every turn, until my judgment and 
 temper alike fail me?" 
 
 "O cielo futato! Do you not know that Albert's 
 heart beats calmly beneath the shadow of a cool head, 
 while poor Bernhard's heart is still torn and wounded 
 by his unhappy love, the hot-headed boy?" 
 
 Father laughed aloud. " Well, you are certainly fit 
 to grace a strait-jacket, Thomas. Bernhard torn heart 
 unhappy love. Really, a pretty trio, a nice affair, 
 truly!"
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 45 
 
 "No! a very bad affair, let me tell you/' exclaimed 
 Thomas. "I know better than you, who are only the 
 boy's father; I am your children's friend, and nothing 
 escapes my observation. Ah, brutto Tedesco di Greco, 
 just consider a bit, and you can date the change in his 
 nature to Augusta's engagement! Silently he is smart- 
 ing and trying manfully to conquer, and it makes him 
 quarrelsome and unsettled. Be sensible, Nanta, and 
 give him time to master himself." 
 
 The house-bell rang; a letter was handed father just 
 as Bernhard entered and went up-stairs. 
 
 The letter was from a gentleman, Herr von Brieloff, 
 a man of unprincipled character, whose feelings towards 
 father were none of the friendliest, owing to the result 
 of a case that came before Judge Berndal against a 
 poor widow, and brought by the writer of the letter; 
 the case went against him, and the man held spite 
 against the judge. Herr von Brieloff informed father 
 that Bernhard had become involved in an unpleasant 
 quarrel with his son, and challenged him in consequence ; 
 and, although the absurdity of such a request from a 
 school-boy ^as scarcely worthy of notice, still, if Bern- 
 hard did not immediately withdraw the challenge and 
 make reparation, the matter should -be brought before 
 the school, also the police notified. Bernhard was 
 called, and father angrily demanded an explanation. 
 
 Bernhard coolly explained. Young Von Brieloff 
 was a mean, vulgar fellow; did not think it proper to 
 relate then and there the cause of the quarrel, but his 
 father could' rest assured it was sufficient to demand 
 chastisement ; apology was out of the question ; but he 
 would withdraw his honorable challenge on condition
 
 46 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 that the fellow take a caning, like the coward that he 
 really was. 
 
 "But I command you to desist! You shall not 
 molest him at all. His father will not rest satisfied until 
 you are dishonorably dismissed from the university. 
 Do you hear?" cried the judge, in anger. 
 
 "Very well," replied Bernhard, in the same tone; 
 "the shame and disgrace of such a dismissal cannot 
 hurt me." 
 
 "But me! Let it happen, and you may go to the 
 devil or any other desirable place for you, but my door 
 you shall never darken again !" 
 
 "I shall endeavor to bear it," retorted Bernhard. 
 
 Enraged beyond bounds, the judge sprang towards 
 him; but Mrs. Berndal had pushed her son out of the 
 door, and bade him go to his room. 
 
 I followed after a little while, but could not find 
 him; he had left the house and gone to the city. 
 
 The same evening, still excited and angry, he was 
 walking along the main promenade, and came face to 
 face with young Von Brieloff. 
 
 "Coward!" he cried, and dealt him blow after blow 
 on back and shoulders, until the miserable wretch begged 
 and cried like a cur, running for dear life. 
 
 Bernhard paid not the least attention to the crowd of 
 people collected; having paid his reckoning, he quietly 
 walked home. 
 
 In the mean while, Mrs. Berndal and Uncle Thomas 
 had used all their combined persuasive powers to quiet 
 the enraged judge. 
 
 " Cospetto !" Uncle Thomas exclaimed, " do not med- 
 dle with their affairs, Nanta; I shall make it my
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 47 
 
 business to discover the cause of the quarrel; and a 
 little private word with the old Von Brieloff may have 
 its weight also. Maladetto! the apple generally falls 
 near the trunk of the tree ; the son appears to like the 
 shadow of the father. It was no silly play that pro- 
 voked Bernhard. Corpo santo di Cristo ! I'll attend to 
 the old one!" 
 
 With these words he hastened out of the house as 
 fast as his wooden leg would permit. 
 
 Just within the city gates he met Bernhard. " Per 
 Cristo verissimo, gentuomo! I thought you were in 
 your room at home. What are you doing abroad?" 
 
 " I have been enjoying a little promenade, and en- 
 tertaining myself by presenting the high and noble 
 gentleman Von Brieloff with a dozen plebeian excla- 
 mation-points with my cane, accompanying the same 
 with expressions of esteem, etc." 
 
 " The devil ! And was the matter of such urgency, 
 you young hot-head ? Honestly, now, tell me the cause 
 of your quarrel, and what enraged you to such excess. 
 Why not have explained to your father w r hen he made 
 the request?" 
 
 "It was impossible to tell him ; but he might have 
 exhibited sufficient confidence in my word that I felt 
 justified to act in the manner I did. Von Brieloff is 
 malicious and spiteful as an ape. Yesterday, during a 
 little unimportant debate, some of us became excited, 
 and the arguments were growing warm, when Von 
 Brieloff insolently turned to me, saying I was a dis- 
 sembling hypocrite like my father, whose chicanery had 
 lost the cause of a gentleman and his betters ; that he 
 bought and sold his decisions "
 
 48 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 " The Ammazza la canaglia ! Ammazza !" 
 
 exclaimed Uncle Thomas, snorting excitedly. " You 
 did perfectly right, my boy. March straight to my 
 house, and stay there until I call for you. Your father 
 owes you an Never mind ; do as I tell you !" 
 
 What really passed between Uncle Thomas and Von 
 Brieloff senior was never definitely known. 
 
 Later, the footman was dismissed from service by the 
 Hon. Von Brieloff for some neglect of duty, and he 
 spread the report that angry words echoed through the 
 halls, and he distinctly heard Uncle Thomas tell his 
 master if he dared do anything he would trample him 
 under foot like a worm. " I know you," he said, " and 
 you know me. Beware ! If the matter is placed before 
 the court, you will probably know who may have to 
 suifer. Santa croce di Malta ! I leave it to you. Addio, 
 sir !" 
 
 At the expiration of half an hour he entered his 
 house, gleefully rubbing his hands, telling his house- 
 keeper, "Fetch a bottle, Truda ; I have been greatly 
 disturbed, and require a soothing lotion for the inner 
 man. Come, Bcrnhard, empty your glass. I guess the 
 affair will subside ; but see here, my boy, you really 
 should not have punished the fellow so severely. I 
 was told by eye-witnesses that he cried and begged at 
 the first blow. I shall go and have a talk with your 
 father now. Shame on you ! to torment and vex the 
 good man so! Santissimo diavolo ! Get you to your 
 room !" 
 
 Uncle Thomas predicted truly. The student's little 
 difficulty subsided without a hint of future vengeance 
 from the other parties. The subject was also avoided at
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 49 
 
 home ; but Bernhard exerted himself successfully in con- 
 trolling his excitable nature to some extent, and father 
 met the endeavor with consideration and patient for- 
 bearance : so this proved the last violent exchange of 
 temper between them. 
 
 The day of our graduation was drawing near. Our 
 friends and relatives suffered great uneasiness and un- 
 spoken doubts in regard to the final result. Chief among 
 these self-tormented hearts was Uncle Thomas's : if he 
 had been about to pass examination himself he could 
 not have been more exercised. 
 
 He had been in the habit of lauding and glorifying 
 us to such a degree that the necessity of attending school 
 at all seemed rather pleasant pastime until we were 
 old enough to be received at the university, and not 
 because we needed the same instruction required by other 
 boys. Such had been the tenor of his expressed opinion 
 of our natural abilities during; our school-days; but now 
 he suddenly changed his sentiments, and conjured up 
 the most frightful pictures of our deficiency, while 
 each item of knowledge became an insurmountable 
 rock, against which our soft noddles would be shame- 
 fully crushed and disgracefully mutilated. 
 
 Every day he came hobbling up to our room to 
 assure himself of our studious industry ; then he would 
 prayerfully beg us not to stultify our minds with such 
 unreasoning adherence to our books : we would certainly 
 appear stupid. Such a trumpery examination would 
 be the merest fiddle-faddle for such chaps as we were, 
 surely; and if we came out all right, what wonderful 
 things he would do for us! Then, again, he would 
 speak as if it was a hopeless trial for us, and comfort
 
 50 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 us by relating similar failures of others. "Don't take 
 it to heart, boys," he would say ; " although the disgrace 
 will be the death of me." 
 
 The day arrived. Uncle Thomas accompanied us to 
 the door of the institution. At the termination of the 
 first day's examination we found him waiting for us 
 there; fortunately, we could relieve his anxious heart 
 by telling .him we had as yet met with ease every 
 trial. 
 
 His whole manner changed from pitying despair to 
 the most ridiculous triumph on the instant. " Juvenus 
 dum m sumus !" he cried, touching his brow with his 
 finger. "As if we anticipated anything else! Why, 
 did I not always tell you the whole thing would be the 
 sheerest play? I never doubted it, never! You can 
 attest to that yourselves." 
 
 Scarce were the words spoken before a painful shadow 
 fell over his countenance, and he despondently said, 
 "But to-morrow you will certainly fail in mathe- 
 matics; I'm sure of it; I should fail myself in that. 
 Your father and I are prepared, and shall endure the 
 disgrace. Prochwost! Don't get nervous or excited 
 over that portion of your examination; mathematics 
 is the simplest study under the sun. R 2 ph, that's 
 the correct formula; that will take you through the 
 world, and the devil fly away with sine, cosine, and 
 all your logarithmical nonsense! R 2 ph, that's your 
 cue!" 
 
 Arrived at our home, he saw us safely delivered 
 under paternal protection. 
 
 "Bonissime! bonissime!" he exclaimed, when he saw 
 father; then, turning on his wooden leg, he left us alone,
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 51 
 
 and did not appear again until we were about retiring 
 for the night. 
 
 His rosy, glowing face shone brighter than ever as he 
 related how he had hunted up the professors, and, during 
 the convivial entertainment set before them, had interro- 
 gated and instructed them regarding the morrow's duty. 
 
 The sixth and last day of our examination chanced 
 also to be Bernhard's birthday. Such days in our family 
 were ever considered holidays; but Bernhard had re- 
 quested us to postpone the usual festivities until the 
 day's result was proclaimed. 
 
 The time between breakfast and our departure was 
 passed in unusual quiet. Mother and father pressed 
 their sons to their hearts with feelings of sympathy and 
 tenderness. As the hour approached for us to appear 
 in school for the last time, a solemn silence pervaded 
 us all. 
 
 Uncle Thomas entertained us with his hopes and 
 doubts on the way to school, where, after five long 
 hours of anxiety, we were dismissed to await the ver- 
 dict in another apartment. 
 
 There were six of us young fellows who had our 
 wisdom-teeth so unmercifully probed; we bounded down 
 the stairs three steps at a time, feeling confident of the 
 result: those wise professors had been most severe in 
 probing just where a tolerable endurance gave promise 
 of safety. 
 
 At the foot of the stairs the beadle received us and 
 invited us into his room. There we found Uncle 
 Thomas sitting on the sofa behind the table, where 
 he had sat since morning, trembling, doubting, hoping, 
 fearing for us.
 
 52 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 "Through?" he exclaimed. 
 
 "Not yet, but hope for the best directly." 
 
 "Oh, my! oh, my!" he groaned, "wheu will my suf- 
 ferings have an end? when shall I have rest?" With 
 these words he emptied into his glass the last drop from 
 the fourth bottle in front of him. 
 
 Soon that honorable and important individual, Poeta 
 Neutoeberius, or Norus-Columberius, pedellus acade- 
 micus seu riator i. oris m., appeared, and solemnly pro- 
 claimed, " The young gentlemen of the graduating class 
 are requested to appear before the professor immediately." 
 
 Uncle Thomas gave a leap in the air, then fell back 
 on the sofa with a terrible groan, extending a trembling 
 hand for the wineglass, to give him strength to help us 
 bear our trial. 
 
 The directors met us with decided faces ; probably an 
 unpleasant sensation and vacancy in the region of the 
 lower vest-button had something to do with the hasty 
 decision, it being considerably past the professors' cus- 
 tomary dinner-hour. At all events, the ten years of 
 school-life ended with ten words from the director. 
 
 We had graduated with honor. The assembled 
 teachers and professors congratulated us, bowed, and 
 the doors were closed. 
 
 "Over! all over!" we shouted at Uncle Thomas, who 
 rose and majestically commanded, 
 
 " Neutoeberius, away ! Let a messenger be sent hence 
 immediately to deliver the tidings ! Order the carriages 
 around instantly!" 
 
 Then, limping from one to the other, he embraced 
 us fervently, exclaiming, in the excess of his joy and 
 relief, " Did I not tell you to put away your fears, your
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 53 
 
 silly doubts and useless fretting?" followed by a string 
 of Latin oaths and insane exclamations impossible to re- 
 peat, while on the street the sound was taken up by the 
 shouting of postillions and the enthusiastic cries of street 
 urchins, who witnessed the remarkable proceedings. 
 
 Before the door, drawn up in order, stood four coaches, 
 each drawn by four horses, whose drivers were lustily 
 blowing their horns to different tunes and time. 
 
 " Forward, march !" shouted Uncle Thomas. 
 
 There were six of us graduates, friends also from 
 early boyhood. Two and two we were ordered to take 
 possession of three of the coaches, while the excited and 
 happy commandant seated himself in the foremost and 
 fourth, and thus we rode through the town, the envy 
 of all the little boys, halting at the several residences 
 of our graduating class-mates, requesting parents and 
 relatives to honor the house of Thomas with their 
 presence, without further ceremony, early in the even- 
 ing; but not one of us would he release. Arrived at 
 our house, we were ordered to alight and present our 
 personal compliments to Judge Berndal and lady, 
 requesting the family to follow us to the hospitable 
 roof of Mr. Charles Thomas with all speed. Then we 
 reentered the carriages, and soon crossed the street in 
 state, and-were welcomed by Uncle Thomas " at home." 
 
 Such a supper ! such wine and champagne ! 
 
 The ball following was opened by Uncle Thomas and 
 Mrs. Berndal; and the merry old gentleman did not 
 rest until he had hobbled through the dance with every 
 lady present. 
 
 Ah, it was a glorious day ! no shadow of the event- 
 ful to-morrow crept near to mar its completeness.
 
 54 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE following day the family, with the exception 
 of father, mother, and myself, were away from home, 
 and father had given orders that visitors were to be ex- 
 cluded, and I was requested to meet my parents in the 
 yellow gable-room. 
 
 Father was walking thoughtfully up and down the 
 long room, and mother was sitting by the window with 
 her face turned away, and appeared to be weeping. 
 She motioned for me to come to her, and, embracing 
 me stormily, repeatedly called me her beloved boy, her 
 darling son, while her form trembled with emotion. 
 
 " Mother ! dear, good mother !" I cried, in perplexed 
 sorrow, "what has occurred to trouble you?" 
 
 Then Judge Berndal said, in an agitated voice, to his 
 wife, "Lottie, be composed; try and calm yourself; it 
 is unavoidable. Albert, sit down." 
 
 I seated myself beside his wife, and, placing her arm 
 around my neck, she pressed my head to her breast, her 
 hot tears falling on my face. 
 
 "Albert, my son, yes, I can say my dear son justly, 
 for you have ever been our loving, tender, obedient 
 boy;" he strove to conquer his emotion, then softly con- 
 tinued : " my wife, your mother, and I acknowledge with 
 pride in this sad hour that you have been a good son. 
 
 "Albert, my beloved boy, you have attained the age 
 and reached that boundary where the guardianship and
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 55 
 
 protection of those who have loved and cared for you 
 from infancy cease to be a necessity. Here the youth 
 chooses his future, and steps, a self-dependent individual, 
 into the vortex of existence, to encounter the inevitable, 
 to combat, to conquer. 
 
 "You are no longer accountable to human authority 
 for that which affects you personally. The manner in 
 which you employ and profit by the first years of your 
 independence will decide your whole life thereafter. 
 Our hearts and prayers will be with you, but our watch- 
 ful eyes can no longer direct and judge for you. 
 
 " Your destiny is in your own hands, and in placing 
 your welfare in your own keeping I experience no ap- 
 prehension that the care will be more than your young 
 shoulders can sustain. It is not this charge that 
 brings the bitter tears of sorrow to our eyes and fills 
 our heart with deepest pain ; it is the revelation I have 
 to make that I cannot justly spare you the unhappy 
 knowledge of. 
 
 " I am aware that you possess the manliness and 
 strength to face an adverse fact bravely ; but, oh, how 
 reluctantly I follow the dire necessity, stern duty, that 
 forces me to give you pain ! Dear boy, the grief is 
 none the less ours in making the disclosure; we will 
 bear it together and comfort one another." 
 
 Mother began to sob anew, pressing me convulsively 
 to her; but my eyes were riveted in unspeakable terror 
 on the pale face of father, who vainly tried to overcome 
 the tremor in his voice, as he continued: 
 
 "Listen to me quietly, my son, for you are our son, 
 the beloved son of our house, our hearts, our tenderest 
 care ; but, Albert, you are not our child !" ^
 
 56 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 "My God! Not your child? Not your child? 
 Whose, then, am I?" 
 
 "That I cannot tell you, my dear son; the keenest 
 inquiry and investigation failed to throw the faintest 
 light on the mystery of your parentage. But, my boy, 
 if you should ever remain in ignorance regarding your 
 birth, home, and friends, a mother whose heart beats 
 with holy tenderness, and a father whose faith and trust 
 are boundless, loving sisters, these will never fail you 
 as long as life lasts. Ours you are, and shall remain, 
 until you renounce us of your own accord." 
 
 "Never! oh, never that!" I cried, almost broken- 
 hearted. "Oh, God! why could I not have remained 
 unconscious of the horrible truth?" 
 
 I would have torn myself from the loving arms that 
 held me, and gone Heaven knows whither with my sor- 
 row and bereavement, that robbed me so suddenly of the 
 dearest objects in life, but tender words and caresses, 
 tears mingling with mine, held me, and, burying my 
 face in that mother-lap, I sobbed out the storm of de- 
 spair that could scarcely comprehend as yet the desolation 
 of my condition. I only realized that I was an unknown, 
 an outcast, homeless, fatherless, motherless, nameless. 
 
 I strove for composure, and gained sufficient com- 
 mand of my faculties to listen to the story of my adop- 
 tion into the affections and home of my happy boyhood. 
 
 "There only remains one other duty, my dear boy; 
 that is, to give you an account of the articles of wearing 
 apparel and some other things of greater value left by 
 your mother and taken in charge by myself as your 
 legal representative. 
 
 "The jewelry and ornaments you will find in this
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 57 
 
 casket, that I now present to you in memory of the 
 dead. Every article of clothing has been preserved, 
 including that worn by you when found, trusting they 
 would aid you in discovering your relationship and 
 proving your identity. 
 
 "The money I placed where it has drawn interest 
 steadily, and the sum has more than doubled itself 
 during this time. 
 
 " Just before you came to us so strangely, we had lost 
 our first-born, and we received you in his stead as a 
 gift from Heaven to fill his vacant place. The woman 
 you have called mother took you to her sorrowing heart, 
 and warmed and nourished you in your famishing con- 
 dition. If you feel that you owe gratitude to any 
 human being, that your obedience and love are due to 
 any one on earth, 'tis to her you must turn ; she is your 
 life's benefactor. When our researches proved fruitless 
 in regard to your parentage, it was her solicitude for 
 you that concealed the secret of your birth ; she adopted 
 you in the place of her own, and as such you were re- 
 ceived. You were brought up and educated with and 
 as our own, until to-day it becomes my duty to make 
 this explanation. 
 
 "Now, my boy, it is impossible for me to bear the 
 expenses of a collegiate course for both my sons and 
 make just provisions for two daughters at the same 
 time. Moreover, your little fortune, with judicious man- 
 agement, will not only give you an opportunity to con- 
 tinue your studies, but maintain you comfortably during 
 the several years that you will require to fit you for the 
 occupancy of any position you may choose for your 
 future support. That I will continue a trustworthy
 
 58 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 administrator of your affairs until you attain majority 
 you know without more assurances." 
 
 Utterly overcome, I could only throw myself on his 
 breast, and he pressed me in his arms, his tears mingling 
 with mine. His wife approached, and together we 
 three wept in sympathy. Almost insane with my 
 misery, I embraced the dear forms again and again, 
 crying, " Father ! mother ! oh, do not tell me you are 
 not! do not cast me off. I am your son. My God, 
 it must be so!" 
 
 "You are, dear boy, you are, and always shall be," 
 whispered mother, with caressing tenderness. 
 
 Prostrated by the unexpected storm, that appeared, 
 for the moment, to have blighted all my energies and 
 crushed every feeling but the realization of utter lone- 
 liness, I was startled by the sound of footsteps. Uncle 
 Thomas was hobbling up-stairs, followed by my sisters. 
 Alas! I had no sisters now. I could not meet them. 
 "Let me go!" I exclaimed; "I shall smother, stifle 
 here! I must be alone." I tore myself from their 
 embrace, and rushed towards the door and into the 
 arms of Uncle Thomas, who endeavored to restrain me 
 as I struggled to escape. 
 
 "Mille tonnerres!" he exclaimed, in French anger. 
 "Damn you, young studiosibus! do you take me for 
 an insignificant pigmy, a dog, a dwarf, to be flung out 
 of the way at your pleasure? Sapristie! the ill- 
 mannered cub came booming at me with the force of a 
 howitzer! But, sacre nom de Dieu! what's the matter, 
 boy? You look like a ghost, with a countenance as 
 woe-begone as the female apparition's hobgobling about 
 Berlin Castle. Have the old folks murdered you?
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 59 
 
 Did I arrive just in time to save you and prevent the 
 catastrophe?" 
 
 " Unhand me, uncle ! Let me go, for God's sake !" 
 
 "Ventre saint gris!" he cried, releasing me, and 
 staring in astonishment at the judge and his wife. 
 "This is a lamentable trio, surely. What's up?" In 
 the mean time, I rushed out of the house, to breathe the 
 fresh air and think. 
 
 Uncle Thomas closed the door, and, turning to Judge 
 Berndal, said, "Now, Nanta, explain. What has oc- 
 curred? Que le diable m'emporte! There she sits, the 
 unhappy woman, weeping tears enough to float the 
 world. Nanta, you depraved monster, what have you 
 been doing to your wife and Albert during my absence? 
 Confess your infamous deed; speak, wretch!" With- 
 out waiting an answer, he walked to the table, where 
 sat Mrs. Berndal, her face buried in her hands, and 
 in a pitiful voice begged her to be happy once more. 
 
 "Don't cry," he pleaded, charming woman; do not 
 weep; do anything in the world but weep, dear heart." 
 Then, turning again to the judge, he said, 
 
 " Eh bien, Nanta, mon joli coco, will you directly ex- 
 plain, or shall I directly march about my own business 
 and leave you alone?" 
 
 "Brother Thomas, sit down," said the judge. "The 
 subject under discussion is no longer a secret, but a 
 most unhappy revelation for our Albert, and a distress- 
 ing story altogether; but sooner or later the poor boy 
 had to be told we were not his parents, that he was 
 only our child by adoption." 
 
 "What! not your son? A million and threescore 
 bomb-shells have struck me!" screamed Uncle Thomas,
 
 60 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 forgetting all his mongrel quotations in his astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Sit down quietly, Thomas, and I will relate what I 
 know about the melancholy affair." 
 
 Helplessly the good soul sank into a chair, gazing 
 first at one then at the other of his sorrowing friends, 
 muttering, "Not your child? Albert not your child? 
 And I never told of it all these years !" 
 
 With a pained expression on his face, he then silently 
 awaited further information. Absent-mindedly his hand 
 had wandered towards the casket on the table at his 
 side, fingering the jewelry unconscious of his actions, 
 when, with a startled exclamation, he scrutinized more 
 closely a diamond ring that he had carelessly tried to 
 force on to one of his fleshy fingers. He ran to the 
 window, inspected the circle inside and out, then, with 
 an ashen-gray face and almost inarticulate voice, he 
 asked, "This ring, Nanta, where did this ring come 
 from?" 
 
 " It belongs to Albert. It was taken from his mother's 
 hand after her death," replied the judge, marveling 
 somewhat at Mr. Thomas's strange conduct. 
 
 " Great Heaven above !" hoarsely cried Uncle Thomas, 
 limping excitedly across the room and holding the ring 
 up before the judge. " Answer me truly, Nanta, for God's 
 sake, only the truth! Was this ring taken from the 
 hand of Albert's mother?" 
 
 "It was. The jewelry that casket contains also 
 belonged to the unfortunate woman." 
 
 "Poor, poor Marie!" Uncle Thomas cast himself 
 on the sofa and sobbed aloud, and appeared to be deaf 
 to every question and all the comforting words of the
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 61 
 
 wondering judge and his wife. But suddenly he raised 
 his head, and the traces of grief were lost in an ex- 
 pression of childish delight; he rushed as fast as his 
 wooden leg would permit up to Mrs. Berndal, and 
 kissed her repeatedly, then embraced the judge heartily, 
 releasing him only to execute a noisy jig, and shout, 
 "Albert is my son, my dear boy, and yours too, mind 
 that ! Come, mother Berndal, you have got to be kissed 
 again ; you shall be loved and honored as if you were 
 my own mother. Come to my heart, father Berndal, 
 come and let me love you and honor you as if you 
 were both father and grandfather ." 
 
 Fearing the man had lost his reason, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Berndal looked on in affright, and unable to comprehend 
 him. At last, observing their disturbed faces, he calmed 
 himself. 
 
 "Do you not understand, you stupid people?" he 
 said. "Have I not made it perfectly plain to you that 
 Albert is my boy? That ring belonged to my sister, 
 I myself gave it to her, and Albert is her son !" 
 
 "The Lord grant it may be so! But, Thomas, the 
 ring does not prove it." 
 
 "The devil it don't! But /shall prove it, my jus- 
 ticiary doubter." With these words he emptied the 
 casket of its contents, and examined each article closely 
 until he found what he evidently wanted. It was a 
 plain circle of gold, a wedding-ring. "There," said he, 
 "is more proof; you will find the letters 'M. T. T. 
 M., 1807' inscribed in that ring. They stand for 
 Marie Thomas Theodore Martin. Poor Marie!" With 
 the back of his hand he wiped a tear from his eye, 
 and requested Judge Berndal to narrate the story.
 
 62 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Silently he listened; and when Judge Berndal had 
 related all there was to tell, Uncle Thomas said to Mrs. 
 Berndal, "Dear madam, will you tell me what letters 
 marked the linen of the poor lady?" 
 
 "M. T." 
 
 "And the child's?" 
 
 "A.M." 
 
 "There, brother justice, I can give you proof again: 
 I am also the Charles mentioned in the torn letter; I, 
 Charles Thomas, am the identical Charles that left 
 home and enlisted, and the unhappy woman you buried 
 here was my sister Marie on her way to visit my wife. 
 Poor girl! her years were not all complete and joyous, 
 either. You recollect, Nanta, the kind of man my 
 father was? Harsh, cold, and unloving towards his 
 family, and not inclined to study the desires of his 
 children. He rose out of obscurity and poverty by the 
 long and tiresome ladder of a small grocer; he made a 
 respectable fortune by hard work and industry. He 
 was not particularly ambitious for himself, but his 
 heart's desire was to see his two children rich. To be 
 rich was to be happy, according to his views. Bliss 
 without riches \vas an incomprehensible chimera. To 
 be a merchant, a rich trader, was his ideal; he had 
 more respect for such a man than for his majesty the 
 Emperor himself. I was destined to become a merchant, 
 and Marie must marry one. In fact, father had chosen 
 one for her, a mean, bad, unprincipled fellow, that poor 
 Marie could not tolerate ; but he was rich ! Marie was 
 a lovable, pretty girl, and much sought by the young 
 men, and one in particular found her heart. He was a 
 worthy and trustworthy man, a physician of good stand-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 63 
 
 ing, and a surgeon in the army, stationed with his regi- 
 ment near our town. 
 
 " When he, encouraged by the blushing girl, manfully 
 asked father's permission to pay his honorable addresses 
 to his beautiful daughter, he was met with insult and 
 vile epithets, ordered to take himself from the prem- 
 ises, and never to show his face thereabouts again, or, 
 etc., etc. 
 
 " Marie was gentle and mild in disposition, but re- 
 mained firm to her resolve not to wed the disagreeable 
 merchant, although she would not marry against the 
 wishes of her father the man she loved. You can imagine 
 the unhappy atmosphere of our home. Father raved 
 and stormed daily ; peace had fled forever. If mother 
 ventured to remonstrate, she received the grossest treat- 
 ment from the master of the house. But one day the 
 news arrived that the man who had been favored, and 
 for whom we had all suffered so much, because he had 
 money, because he was a rich merchant, was a fraud- 
 ulent bankrupt ! The destruction of a long-cherished 
 plan and desire, and the knowledge that he had been so 
 nearly duped, was more than father's mind could bear 
 at that time, and he never recovered from the blow. 
 His mind was unsettled, and his health began to fail 
 from that hour. 
 
 " Mother died soon after. With her last breath she 
 gave Marie her consent and blessing to wed the man of 
 her choice. 
 
 " For two years Marie remained and nursed father, 
 who appeared to live only in her sight, and seemed to 
 remember only that she was his child, for whom he 
 was gathering gold. Gold and Marie ! that was all ;
 
 64 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 and rambling thus in mind, he fell asleep to wake no 
 more. 
 
 " And then the faithful girl married her faithful lover. 
 But the devoted couple were destined to be again 
 parted. Dr. Martin had never been robust, and the 
 life of exposure to which his duties subjected him led 
 to distressing results. A short time before the birth of 
 Albert my poor sister became a widow. 
 
 " I was not at home when the letter with the news 
 arrived ; I had already enlisted and joined my regi- 
 ment ; but my wife answered it with the pressing invi- 
 tation to come and make our house her home during 
 their mutual widowhood. 
 
 " The physical prostration following Albert's birth, 
 the exertion necessary to undertake the journey with 
 her babe, her lonely condition, grief for her beloved 
 husband, all may have combined in leading to the ter- 
 rible idea of self-destruction. 
 
 " My wife received a short letter informing her of 
 their intended departure to make the promised visit. 
 The time arrived ; she waited in vain : Maria came 
 not. Two trunks at last were received. Then she 
 waited daily, hourly, for their owner, who would cer- 
 tainly follow. But no Marie came. It is useless to 
 tell you of our searching. My wife went to Berlin, and 
 from there every conceivable means was employed to 
 trace the lost ones, but without avail. Marie, my poor, 
 poor Marie ! you were so near me, and I did not know 
 it ; daily your son was before me, and I knew him not ! 
 
 " For twenty years those trunks have stood un- 
 strapped and unopened, and, unless the mildew and 
 moths have utterly destroyed their contents, they will
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 65 
 
 doubtless compare with the clothing in the little 
 traveling-trunk in your possession." 
 
 Judge Berndal silently opened a drawer in his secre- 
 tary, and took from a beautiful bead purse a bunch of 
 keys, and was about to replace the purse, when Uncle 
 Thomas grasped it from him. 
 
 "I have seen that before, Nanta. My sister made it 
 for mother, and father contributed the silver clasp. It 
 was intended for a birthday-gift." Great tears fell on 
 the purse as he tenderly gazed at it, sadly murmuring, 
 " All dead ! all dead !" 
 
 " Come, Thomas, here are the keys to your trunks ; 
 let us go and remove the last doubts," said Judge 
 Berndal. 
 
 " What, Nanta ! do you still entertain any ?" queried 
 Uncle Thomas, reproachfully. 
 
 " No," replied the judge, firmly and decidedly ; " but, 
 as it is in our power to drive the martyrdom of uncer- 
 tainty beyond recall by oracular evidence, it were best 
 done at once." 
 
 " You are right, brother Nanta. Come." 
 
 " Take me with you," cried Mrs. Berndal ; " do not 
 leave me alone with my trouble and unrest." 
 
 " To be sure you shall go, dear lady. You, the 
 mother and loving friend, have the first right to com- 
 mand in this matter. Oh, what would have become 
 of the forsaken child if you had not been merciful?" 
 exclaimed Uncle Thomas. 
 
 In silence they crossed the street and entered the 
 house, and Uncle Thomas led up one flight of stairs into 
 a little room where the trunks stood. Father handed 
 him the keys, and slowly he sank on his knees to unlock 
 
 6*
 
 66 UNDER THE STORKS' WEST. 
 
 them, but, overcome with grief, he let them fall, bowed 
 his head on the cover, and wept unrestrained. 
 
 "I cannot cannot, Nanta! You open them," he 
 said, rising. 
 
 Father pressed his hand in sympathy, and mother 
 asked permission to unlock them. Thankfully Uncle 
 Thomas nodded his consent. 
 
 The lid was raised. A white linen cloth was spread 
 over the contents. In one corner was the mark in red, 
 "M. T." With joyous exclamations this testimony 
 was received, and Uncle Thomas, with eyes still tear- 
 dimmed, forgot his grief for the dead sister in the 
 knowledge of possessing a living nephew. 
 
 The marriage-certificate of my parents, and their 
 likenesses, were among the contents ; also papers and 
 letters of inestimable value were exhumed from their 
 resting-place in these trunks, because they established 
 their fellowship with those other things that had lain 
 so long awaiting identification. 
 
 During these happy developments at home, I had 
 wandered in the direction of the High Bridge, towards 
 the spot on the sea-shore where, twenty years before, I, 
 a crying, helpless infant, had appealed unconsciously 
 for succor. I cast myself on the ground and gave 
 vent to my feelings, and my eyes sought to trace again 
 the footprints, long since obliterated, that were made 
 by my mother. I felt as if she must rise up before me 
 and bring comfort to her forsaken child. She loved 
 me, yes, truly, ardently, as mothers love their offspring, 
 and yet yet she had left me, never to return ! 
 
 The murmuring, whispering waves dashed gently 
 over the banks, above me the young foliage sang its
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 67 
 
 sibilant melody, but no sweet mother's voice mingled 
 with the sounds. 
 
 Slowly the blue waves followed each other to the 
 shore, their round arms bearing the reeds and sea- weed 
 tenderly along, playfully leaping upward to the over- 
 hanging bushes and shrubs that bowed and nodd.ed in 
 greeting welcome. 
 
 Ah, perhaps on that fatal evening, twenty years ago, 
 the treacherous, murmuring deep had sung the same 
 peaceful, soothing melody, had held out those soft, 
 friendly arms. " Come," they softly whispered, " come 
 rest here, pale, tired mourner ; we will rock, and nurse, 
 and give you peace." The trusting victim was clutched 
 in their cruel embrace. Mercilessly then they rushed 
 and roared, that no human ear could hear the cry for 
 help, the cry of the struggling woman, my tender, 
 loving mother. Oh, my my mother ! 
 
 Cast my eyes where I would, all was quiet and 
 peace ; only within my soul raged the storm, the tem- 
 pestuous wailing of an ineffable sorrow. 
 
 But, like everything else in this world, the human 
 heart is unstable. The emotions that govern it are as 
 changeable as wind and w r ave. Neither joy nor sorrow 
 remains forever at its height. 
 
 When we have reached the mountain's summit, the 
 next step leads us down again. 
 
 We meet a sudden joy to-day with outbursts of 
 excessive emotion ; to-morrow we shall have become 
 familiarized with it. 
 
 And certainly the grief and trouble of yesterday 
 greet us with less force after being our guests over- 
 night. We can nourish and feed a sorrow, can keep it
 
 68 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 alive by a perpetual renewal of the agitating subject, 
 until it becomes an unhealthy mania; but the same 
 grief cannot reach the first excessive degree again. 
 
 There are innumerable ways of calming pleasurable 
 emotions. To become master of a sorrow, we require 
 time and nature. Time is slow and sure with its heal- 
 ing balm ; nature not less sure, but more rapid in 
 relief, because sympathetic, appealing directly to our 
 hearts. Time preaches of sense and reason, the in- 
 exorable logic of facts. 
 
 I experienced the truth of this to-day. 
 
 I came to this spot suffering the agony of untold bit- 
 terness. I realized not only the loss of my own parents, 
 but the loss of those whom I had always loved and 
 honored as such. I suffered the humiliation of being 
 an object of pity ; all that had been done for me was 
 done out of compassion. The horror of my mother's 
 fate glared me in the soul. I was utterly crushed with 
 my first great sorrow. 
 
 After a time I arose and looked about me. What 
 was this strange feeling of quiet that suddenly came 
 over me ? The storm in my soul had abated. From 
 whence came the peace that reigned in my heart ? I 
 do not know, but the violent pain was assuaged. A 
 feeling of sadness, tempered with a contented resigna- 
 tion, possessed me. What I had heard regarding my- 
 self sounded in my memory like a fable that I had 
 listened to long, long ago ; everything seemed far in 
 the past ; only one feeling of that other life had fol- 
 lowed into the present, an unquenchable gratitude 
 towards the noble guardians of my helpless infancy 
 and friendless boyhood.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 69 
 
 A fervent prayer for my unknown parents, an en- 
 treaty for the happiness and welfare of those who had 
 taken the place of father and of mother, and I turned 
 my steps homeward. 
 
 The dear ones whom I had left in tears met me 
 beaming with joy and congratulations ; sisters em- 
 braced me again and again ; Uncle Thomas nearly 
 crushed me in his arms ; but it was long before I 
 could comprehend what had taken place during my 
 absence. Then, when I saw the pictures of my pa- 
 rents, my happiness was complete. The thorn of hu- 
 miliation was removed from my heart ; I could say I 
 also had a father, a mother ; I could gaze at their pic- 
 tured faces and glory like other children ; I could 
 point to that man over there and say, proudly, " Be- 
 hold! that man is my uncle, my mother's brother!" 
 
 This unexpected closing of a dark day shed a ra- 
 diance over all ; and yet floating in the horizon was 
 that cloud of separation. I would have given worlds, 
 did I possess them, to have obliterated the knowledge 
 that the man who had saved me was not my father ; 
 the woman at whose breast I had lain, who had nursed 
 me, watched and tended me so faithfully, tenderly, for 
 years, not my mother ; the dear playmates of my youth 
 not my sisters, and Bernhard, the dearest companion, 
 not my brother ! 
 
 At last, as evening advanced, Uncle Thomas looked 
 for his hat and cane. 
 
 "Now, my dear boy," said he, "you know what 
 happiness it would give me to take you and lock you 
 up under my own roof. But I hope the Living Sin 
 may carry me off if I can teach the heart in my bosom
 
 70 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 to take you from your parents. They've done more for 
 you than I could do if I lived to the age of Methu- 
 selah, and you will be a thankless villain if ever you 
 forsake them, unless they invite you to walk. Under- 
 stand, sir ? But during vacation, when you are home 
 from the university, then you shall take up your quar- 
 ters with me. You will grant this old stick that 
 pleasure, Nanta? and you, charming madam? Then 
 good-night, and God keep you !" 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 FIVE years have elapsed. Bernhard and Albert have 
 emerged from their careless student life, to assume the 
 responsibilities of manhood. 
 
 Albert follows the profession of attorney-at-law, and 
 finds a happy home with Uncle Thomas. 
 
 Bernhard chose a physician's arduous life, and lives 
 with his parents. 
 
 The old house rings with merriment and noise to- 
 day; the garden and grounds are decorated and fes- 
 tooned ; everywhere gayly-dressed young folks can be 
 seen wandering about, or sitting in pairs and groups, 
 while their elders are sitting in the arbors or halls, en- 
 joying conversation and refreshments. Lively strains 
 of music from the large pavilion erected for the occa- 
 sion under Uncle Thomas's directions invite those in- 
 clined for the dance to follow the sound of the band. 
 
 It is Matilda's wedding-day.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 71 
 
 The gentle, lovely girl was about to forsake father, 
 mother, friends, and home, to follow the fortunes of 
 the man of her choice, a Mr. Rinold, magistrate and 
 counselor, situated at and resident of a neighboring 
 city. 
 
 The day and evening were spent in singing, dancing, 
 feasting, and drinking the health and happiness of the 
 young couple. 
 
 At midnight Mrs. Berndal notified them their car- 
 riage was in waiting, and, unobserved by their guests, 
 the loving good-byes were spoken, and the young wife 
 was prayerfully given to the proud husband and son- 
 in-law. 
 
 Their departure would not have been so secret or 
 peaceful if Uncle Thomas had not been very much en- 
 gaged in another part of the grounds at that time. He 
 had been watchful for hours in anticipation of this 
 quiet move, with the purpose of preventing it. The 
 objects of his attention, at that moment, happened to 
 be Martha and Albert. 
 
 After the disclosure of Albert's birth, the only no- 
 ticeable change in any member of the Berndal family 
 towards the young man was the coolness and singular 
 want of confidence in the conduct of Martha ; the sis- 
 terly familiarity and former intimacy that had made her 
 the dearest of all to his heart were lost in her unap- 
 proachable reserve. 
 
 From the hour when his mother (as we shall still 
 call Mrs. Berndal) had permitted him to see the little 
 sister the stork had brought him, she had been his 
 favorite. He had rocked her and sung to her, fed her 
 with pap, and even nipped slyly of the sweet starchy
 
 72 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 substance out of the same spoon; she had been his little 
 "doll," and pet, and baby-sister, always. 
 
 She in turn clung to him with infant preference, and, 
 later, came to him with her girlish confidences; each 
 shared the joys and sorrows of the other. 
 
 The violence of her grief when the revelation was 
 made that Albert was not her brother was fearful, and 
 days passed before^she was able to allude to the subject 
 without displaying the distress and bitter disappointment 
 the news occasioned her. 
 
 Albert now began to realize she was no longer a play- 
 mate and doll, but had attained the dignity of young- 
 womanhood. When he returned from college and took 
 up his residence with his uncle, he found his associations 
 with her had assumed the nature of those of an indiffer- 
 ent friend, one to be treated civilly rather from necessity 
 than inclination. 
 
 This wounded the young man, and he met her with 
 the same unconcerned manner, until the old relations 
 between them were buried under an apparent dislike; 
 their meetings invariably resulted in a war of words, 
 cutting remarks intended to wound and portray an 
 utter disregard of each other's feelings. When apart, 
 each became the warmest champion of the other's quali- 
 ties and virtues. 
 
 Judge Berndal shook his head sorrowfully over the 
 gulf that seemed to yawn between the two. Uncle 
 Thomas stormed and scolded his nephew for his heart- 
 lessness, his quarrelsome, intolerant deportment towards 
 the pretty, winsome little Martha. 
 
 Solemnly they promised to mend their manners, but 
 when next they met the petty lampooning began again.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 73 
 
 The father and uncle fretted and plotted without avail ; 
 but Mrs. Berndal smiled with the silence of woman's 
 wisdom, and let them quarrel, and bided the denoue- 
 ment. 
 
 During the preparations for the wedding, Martha's 
 manner lost somewhat of its iciness : her sister's hap- 
 piness and pleasure occupied her mind to the exclusion 
 of personal feelings; Albert's aid was frequently in de- 
 mand, and, as the little lady became more approachable, 
 the young man became more humble, but neither had 
 referred to the ugly barrier that had come between 
 them. 
 
 To-day it was entirely surmounted; the festivities 
 and universal happiness had also reached their hearts. 
 Albert found no companion but Martha, scarcely leaving 
 her side during the day, and when evening approached 
 they joined the dancers, and Albert could but impa- 
 tiently await an opportunity to beg an explanation of 
 her singular avoidance of him heretofore. 
 
 After the dance they wandered arm in arm towards 
 one of the arbors overhung with vines, inviting the con- 
 fidence of those desiring it. 
 
 Everywhere resounded laughter and witticisms; the 
 utmost felicity followed the disposition of the host's ex- 
 cellent wines. The moon gazed in mild disdain at the 
 flickering lamps and decorating lanterns, and smiled 
 sweetly at the two sitting on that little bench in the 
 arbor. 
 
 "Martha! you dear, dear Martha! now tell me hon- 
 estly, why have you hated and persecuted me all these 
 years? What have I done that makes me odious to 
 you? Have I not loved you always, better than all
 
 74 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 others? Why have you inflicted such pain on me?" 
 Albert pressed the little hand resting in his own, and 
 waited for a reply. 
 
 Martha returned the pressure, and, looking at him 
 roguishly, she questioned in return, "Why did you not 
 ask me that question years ago, before you had made a 
 complete dunce of yourself? There, dear Albert, do 
 not be angry, I did not mean to oifend you, but listen 
 to me. We were brought up like sister and brother, 
 and I loved you as dearly as it is possible for a younger 
 sister to idolize a kind, tender, older brother. The in- 
 telligence that we were not related by the tie of blood 
 shocked and pained me so terribly that I was ill for 
 some days, and unable to join the family. Subsequently, 
 when we met, you conducted yourself so strangely, in 
 fact, absurdly, towards me, even addressed me as Miss 
 Berndal. That was more than I could endure. I may 
 have retorted a little bit angrily and said some unkind 
 things, but I regretted them afterwards. From that 
 time you- honored me with such extremely courteous de- 
 portment and excessive politeness it touched my pride, 
 although it pained me. I have really been the greatest 
 sufferer through our misunderstanding, because I have 
 continued to love you, although you have ceased to re- 
 gard with affection your little sister." 
 
 "You still care for me, Martha, dearest girl? Well, 
 I have really been a fool, a dunce, Martha; I have 
 never ceased one little moment to love you. And you, 
 how you have hurt and tormented me! But forgive 
 me, Martha, I do not seem to realize my present happi- 
 ness yet. Do you still love like me as before?" 
 
 "I have always remained fond of you, loved you
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 75 
 
 like a brother, that is, a headstrong, naughty, insup- 
 portable brother." 
 
 "Martha," whispered Albert, impressively, "if I am 
 no longer naughty, insupportable, could you learn to 
 tolerate me better than a brother? Dear Martha, I 
 swear to you, notwithstanding appearances, I have loved 
 you better and better day by day ; not as a sister, but as 
 man loves, and can love, only the woman he would call 
 wife!" He placed his arm around the unresisting form 
 of his companion and pressed her in a close embrace, 
 rapturously exclaiming, "You do you will love me 
 more " 
 
 " I cannot," softly said the little maiden, "for I love 
 you now entirely, heart and soul ; more I cannot love." 
 
 " And you will be mine mine to all eternity in 
 life and death?" 
 
 " Thine alone, and thine forever !" 
 
 " Oh, my darling girl, how happy you have made 
 me !" cried the young man, partaking of the privileges 
 of a lover from the rosy lips of his idol. 
 
 " Thunder and cartridges ! bombshells and light- 
 ning !" suddenly exclaimed an unsteady, husky voice 
 behind them, and Uncle Thomas stepped out of the 
 shadow and confronted the startled and abashed lovers. 
 " What sort of an explosion is this ? Firing in files, 
 by Mars ! and sounds like a hedge-fence in flames ! 
 Forward, here ! and report, you you hostile horde !" 
 
 "Uncle Thomas 
 
 " Young man, hold your tongue ; silence ! The 
 position requires no explanation. ' Ever thine ; ever 
 mine,' etc., etc. Thank Heaven you have come to your 
 senses. Bless you, my children ! And you, Martha,
 
 76 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 come here and give me a kiss. Out of the way, boy, 
 and don't grudge. God bless you, dear child, for the 
 joy you have given me to-day ; and you too, my son. 
 Hurrah ! Nanta ! Nanta ! come here, and let me be the 
 first to congratulate you. No, you don't !" he cried, as 
 Martha struggled to escape on the approach of her 
 father. But she freed herself and vanished in spite of 
 the jolly old man's hold. 
 
 " Deserted her colors, the renegade !" laughed Uncle 
 Thomas, who had indulged his dry throat with frequent 
 lotions of champagne. " But run away, my girl ; we 
 will catch you when we want you. What do you think, 
 Nanta ? I found this reprobate sitting here with his arm 
 around Martha, kissing her ! And, by my soul, I 
 believe she kissed him too ! And they swore ; as if 
 they had never been taught that profanity is forbidden 
 by one of the ten commandments, or the Catechism 
 had been left out of their early studies. Does it not 
 say, ' Thou shalt not swear, lie, or deceive ' ? And must 
 they not suffer punishment? Shall we not instantly 
 betroth the sinners '?" 
 
 " Softly, Thomas, softly," Judge Berndal replied ; 
 " do not draw the attention of the guests to our bashful 
 couple. We will decide on their punishment after sub- 
 mitting the case to our high tribunal, Madam Mamma." 
 
 That lady made her appearance at this moment. 
 
 " Uncle Thomas," said she, " Matilda and Rinold 
 requested me to give you their dearest love and adieu ; 
 they have but just gone." 
 
 " Sold, by ! Gone ? And the scene in the 
 
 arbor was a scandalous comedy played for a fool's ben- 
 efit ! Oh, you "
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' XEST.* 77 
 
 Uncle Thomas paused in surprise when he discovered 
 that Albert also had disappeared. 
 
 Mrs. Berndal looked at him in astonishment. " What 
 has Albert done, Uncle Thomas? What has excited 
 you so?" 
 
 " I've been tricked, cheated, deceived, basely, devil- 
 ishly duped ! Madam, here I've been standing in one 
 spot long enough for my wooden leg to take root in the 
 ground, with my eyes set on the house-door so that our 
 nuptial pair could not escape me on the sly. I had it 
 all arranged with the coachman. When they had en- 
 tered the carriage I would step up and bid them good- 
 by, and at the signal ' Pleasant journey !' he was to 
 whip up his horses and ride away, leaving the carriage 
 standing, having unharnessed the horses beforehand, 
 you understand. It would have been such a glorious 
 joke ! But here come the two wretches, seat them- 
 selves on the bench, and begin their play. ' Ah,' 
 said I, ' Thomas, here is something new, watch it !' I 
 hardly breathe, but stand and stand, and they kiss and 
 embrace, and swear like Romeo and Juliet. I am 
 .happy enough to miss my signal, jump out at them, 
 bless them like any other uncle in a play, and mean- 
 while my other couple ride quietly away ! The satanic 
 imps ! I'll bet you they are laughing themselves to 
 death in some other corner, and when the fun is played 
 out they will go to fighting again. Oh, I shall leap 
 out of my skin !" 
 
 " Don't, Thomas," quietly replied Judge Berndal ; 
 " or, if you really want to make the trial, our friends 
 will doubtless enjoy the performance." 
 
 " I don't need any witnesses," grumbled Uncle
 
 78 'UNDER THE STORKS' XEST. 
 
 Thomas ; " and you, Nanta, are not required to fill the 
 measure of my disappointment by any additional 
 mockery. To think that they should be enjoying their 
 journey so nicely after the joke was just ready ! Bali !" 
 
 " Come, Uncle Thomas, let us take a glass of wine 
 to the health of the happy travelers," said the kind 
 hostess, greatly amused, but anxious to console the 
 distressed man. 
 
 " Dear lady, you are a comforter indeed. Happy to 
 join you. It may be just as well that I have one 
 score of nonsense less to mark against the weight of 
 my years. See, dear lady, if I was only sure about 
 that other couple, for whom I neglected my signal." 
 
 The poor man found it impossible to bring either of 
 the hunted ones to the confessional that night; they 
 avoided hini at every turn. But the following day, 
 before Albert was awake, Uncle Thomas had taken up 
 his position at his nephew's bedside, and a strict exami- 
 nation elicited the facts to the entire satisfaction of the 
 old gentleman. 
 
 There was no obstacle to prevent the course of their 
 love from running smooth. And the first letter that 
 followed the newly-married folks to their home con- 
 tained the news of the betrothal of the enemies 
 Albert and Martha. 
 
 Martha greatly resembled her mother in form and 
 face, but her dark sparkling eyes glowed with the mis- 
 chievous spirit that made her so bewitching without 
 detracting from her really good disposition, graceful, 
 merry, sensible, yet combining the idealistic and ro- 
 mantic to a degree that favored the fine arts, and gave 
 them a preference in her nature.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 79 
 
 She was an enthusiastic admirer of nature. A passion 
 for sketching developed itself in childhood, when she 
 would devote hours to pencil and paper, drawing some 
 picturesque mill-pond, or an old decayed stump of a 
 tree, or some simple but pretty scene. 
 
 Sometimes she would accompany her father on a trip 
 through the country. Often her sister would wander 
 through the woods with her by the hour. After her 
 ideas and drawing became more cultivated, she occupied 
 considerable time in studying views, and frequently 
 roamed about for a half-day or day alone. 
 
 This rambling, independent mode of life gave her 
 manner the semblance of daring that savored of the 
 masculine ; but an unfeminine speech or rude demeanor 
 never soiled her lips or destroyed the charm of her 
 deportment. 
 
 Her descriptions and conversation were enlivened 
 with humor and spirited remarks, but withal she was 
 truly modest and womanly. 
 
 Letters did not travel with the present rapidity in 
 those days of coaches and horseback mails, and some 
 weeks elapsed before a letter from the young wife Matilda 
 reached her parents. 
 
 Charmed with her new home, entranced with the 
 unexampled virtues of her beloved spouse, her epistle 
 breathed of the glowing happiness of her heart. She 
 wrote, " My husband is an angel, my home the per- 
 fection of domestic comfort and luxury, and I am the 
 happiest woman on earth. There is nothing wanting 
 now but a sight of your dear faces, a peep at Mar- 
 tha and her intended, and good Uncle Thomas, and 
 brother Bernhard," and, oh ! if she could only see
 
 80 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 them ! if they mother especially would just come 
 and bless her with the sight of her face ! 
 
 Uncle Thomas gazed at the letter, gave vent to some 
 of his pet quotations, interspersed with the custom- 
 ary meaningless oaths, then exclaimed, with perfect 
 honesty, " That girl shall be relieved directly ! May 
 I be splintered if anything in petticoats shall languish 
 and pine for a sight of my face in vain ! What do you 
 say, madam, and you, Nanta ? shall we bundle up bag, 
 baggage, and family, and respond to this heart-rending 
 appeal ?" 
 
 After considerable discussion, Uncle Thomas's prop- 
 osition was finally adopted, and it was decided that in 
 the course of two weeks there would be a general 
 flitting to Paris, to complete the earthly bliss of the 
 longing absent ones. 
 
 "Holy Brahma!" suddenly^ cried Uncle Thomas, 
 " I forgot what I came for. Inspector Bussy just told 
 me that a tribe of veritable gypsies are encamped near 
 the Dreary Marsh. The men are a pack of vagabonds 
 and thieves, the women tell fortunes, and their human 
 brood make way with every goose and hen for miles 
 around. I propose we drive out and take a look at 
 the preciosas, and the rabble generis masculini, and the 
 moor." 
 
 Uncle Thomas was fortunate in his suggestions to- 
 day. This last one was hailed with universal acclama- 
 tion, and the whole family were soon en route for the 
 gypsy-camp. 
 
 The Marsh was located about three hours' drive 
 from the city. Although the surrounding country was 
 noted for its scenic splendor, the moor itself was little
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 81 
 
 known or visited. The vicinity and its history belonged 
 to past centuries. Before the Reformation an immense 
 monastery and church had loomed towards heaven, a 
 resort for weary travelers, and the object of many a 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 The vast edifice and buildings had been contiguous 
 to a beautiful body of water, a sea, deriving its source 
 from larger oceans by artificial subterranean connec- 
 tions. When the cloister became secular property, the 
 vindictive monks destroyed the secret conduit of the 
 supply ; and when it was discovered, the farmers of 
 the surrounding country collected in a body, invaded 
 the premises one night, killed a number of the monks, 
 and set fire to the buildings. An old tower, somewhat 
 removed from the main building, which had probably 
 served as a bell-tower, escaped destruction, and stood 
 in gloomy isolation over the old ruin. 
 
 The crystal mirror of the sea had vanished. A filthy 
 marsh remained, in the centre of which glistened a 
 round spot, not unlike polished ebony in its smooth 
 black surface, environed by the mouldy, putrid mass, 
 that moved under the foot like a putrescent wave of 
 caoutchouc, exhaling at times such poisonous odors that 
 rarely was the neighborhood visited. The old bell- 
 tower, all that remained to tell of the former glory of 
 the place, was called the Rotten-Marsh Tower. 
 
 The gypsy-camp was within sight of this dreary 
 waste ; but their tents .were pitched under the shadow 
 of some gigantic trees, the only foliaged wood in the 
 vicinity. 
 
 The report of their encampment h-.ul evidently ex- 
 cited considerable interest in the neighboring towns. 
 r>*
 
 82 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 When our friends arrived on the ground, they found a 
 number of other families there, and lively groups were 
 sitting or standing around different soothsaying old 
 and young women ; while men and children were en- 
 gaged in petty trafficking with visitors seeking amuse- 
 ment and ready to pay for it in this way. 
 
 Truly, the business was flourishing to-day. Here 
 an old crone foretold the speedy union of some blush- 
 ing girl to the young man beside her ; there a romantic- 
 looking sibyl warned some young couple of the cloud 
 in their sky ; yonder an ancient prophetess gazed into 
 the future for the benefit of some liberal company of 
 young people. Marriages, riches, large families in 
 prospective, silver joys and golden weddings, untold 
 stations of honor and sudden legacies, were distributed 
 according to age and seeming desire, and all for a little 
 silver in the palm of a gypsy's hand.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 83 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE most ill-favored of all the female tribe came 
 up to Uncle Thomas, and asked him if she should tell 
 his fortune. 
 
 "Give me silver, old man, and let me read your 
 fate." 
 
 Uncle Thomas crossed her palm with the desired 
 coin, and, laughing, replied, "Now proceed, you old 
 witch of Endor; but give me a glimpse into the past, 
 to inspire me with confidence, before you attack the 
 future." / 
 
 The woman took his chubby hand, and appeared to 
 study the lines a moment before she spoke. "Ah ha! 
 The pretty blonde, in the big city towards the setting 
 sun, loved you well and none other. But she de- 
 ceived you. What ! you still remember her ? Ha, 
 ha, ha !" 
 
 The merry, red face of the old man turned pale and 
 angry, as he wrenched his hand out of her wrinkled, 
 wizen clutch. AVishing the old hag thunderstruck, 
 and diversified luck of a like nature, he hobbled away, 
 while the grinning old creature laughed derisively 
 after him and Martha, who had her hand on his arm 
 during this time, and now kept step with the excited 
 man as he limped away. 
 
 " Run, run ! but fate is swifter and surer. What 
 has been is written ! What will be, you cannot es-
 
 84 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 cape, my pretty one !" she muttered ; then, turning to 
 Mrs. Berndal, she took her hand. 
 
 " Let me read the future, sister ?" 
 
 Mrs. Berndal endeavored to evade her hold, but her 
 husband jestingly bade her " hearken to the voice of 
 the prophetess." 
 
 The gypsy scanned the faces of both a moment in 
 silence; motioning away the hand of the judge con- 
 taining the silver offering, she, with great solem- 
 nity, reprimanded his levity, exclaiming, impressively, 
 " Bone of thy bone, flesh of thy flesh ; what need have 
 I of thy hand to know thy future? Old, and gray, 
 and broken ; mark it, scoffer ! when the silvery waves 
 of misfortune rest heavy on thy brow, long, long wilt 
 thou remember the words of Hanisa. The past lies be- 
 fore me clear as the day, and the future as transparent 
 as the noonday sun on the blue-vaulted sky. 
 
 " Mother," she continued, in softened tones, her voice 
 deep and earnest in chanting recitative, 
 
 " A stork on the roof brings good luck, they say. 
 Good luck leaves the house when the stork flies away. 
 The storks on the roof and a home full of glee ; 
 The storks are flown he alone remains with thee." 
 
 Bernhard laughed merrily when the solemn tune was 
 at an end, saying, "Really wonderful, if somewhat 
 obscure, indeed!" 
 
 The old woman glanced keenly into his cheerful face, 
 as she replied, " All absurdity will be made plain when 
 the time is ripe : you too shall witness the falling dew 
 clinging to the turf, like the glistening tear on the eye- 
 lashes of the child of earth. Give me your hand, and
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. g5 
 
 Hanisa will see if your laughing eyes shall be dimmed 
 with the dew of tears. 
 
 " Thine eyes are bright ; soon comes the night. 
 
 What thou shalt lose is thine yet through pain ; 
 
 "What thou shalt win will vanish again. 
 Dark clouds are around, little sunshine about; 
 Where joy comes in, there hope goes out." 
 
 Bernhard assumed a respectful attitude until she 
 ceased speaking, then, after giving her some money, he 
 strolled away and seated himself on the grass in solitary 
 meditation, where Albert joined him after also receiv- 
 ing the gypsy's warning advice. 
 
 "Appreciate happiness and prosperity while it is 
 thine. Luck is but a transient guest; once gone, you 
 may chase the nimble fugitive in vain." Thus the 
 oracle had spoken to him. 
 
 "Halloo, Bernhard! are you melancholy and pros- 
 trated by the ' prophetess of her people' and her wisdom ? 
 Truly, you do not look as happy as Saul when he went 
 in search of his father's asses and found a crown in- 
 stead." 
 
 Bernhard shrugged his shoulders in response. Albert 
 continued: "And still, as I continue to gaze, methinks 
 thou dost resemble Saul the king when he was about to 
 make a scabbard of his bowels, and his corpse was hung 
 on the wall of Beth-shan. Again, you remind me of 
 his dejected state during his interview with the witch 
 of Endor, or when he flung his spear at David, the son 
 of Jesse, while that youth stood before him playing the 
 harp for his amusement." 
 
 Bernhard rose, laughingly saying, "Albert, you are a 
 lunatic, and I am another. To tell you the truth, my 
 
 8
 
 86 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 dear fellow, I have been trying to unravel that creature's 
 lines. I grant that it is supremely absurd to permit 
 the twattle of that toothless beggar to occupy my 
 thoughts for an instant, 'and yet her words impressed 
 me in spite of common sense, as if I had been the 
 veriest Sister Credulous at a tea-party." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" laughed Albert. "That is altogether 
 owing to your innocent, childlike mind. The cunning 
 hag has the sense of the sensible: the simplicity of 
 your soul was apparent, and she very sensibly touched 
 it. Behold the eifect! I say, Bernhard, she reminds 
 me of the armadillo, she traps her game with her 
 tongue. 
 
 "The mystery that clothes her language is what im- 
 presses the hearer: examined word by word it is mean- 
 ingless. She gave me a dose, and I have turned it 
 inside out and upside down, and find it remains just as 
 she intended it should, a pennyworth of nothing. 
 
 "Some time in the course of my life I shall prob- 
 ably be shocked by some painful incident or surprised 
 by some unusual enjoyment; then, my boy, I shall give 
 a thought to the old gypsy, and shall feel that she knew 
 all about it, and foretold it with the wisdom of her 
 trade." 
 
 In the mean time, Uncle Thomas and Martha had 
 wandered about until they found themselves at the old 
 bell-tower. Martha's attention was attracted by a rus- 
 tling sound, and she imagined she saw a face peering 
 at her from one of its shadowy corners. Leaving Uncle 
 Thomas a moment, she walked in the direction of the 
 sound, but found nothing. Just as she rejoined her 
 companion, a beautiful young gypsy girl appeared sud-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS 1 NEST. $7 
 
 denly before them, and, addressing her in a soft musical 
 voice, said, 
 
 " Pretty sister, I have awaited your coming since the 
 early dawn. Mira saw you in her dreams, and knew 
 you would come to her, that she might speak the words 
 the spirit placed on her tongue. Be warned, warned, 
 warned! the star of your destiny is clouded, and the 
 dark shadows of night hover over your brow and 
 threaten death. Oh, be warned ! be warned ! 
 
 " Sister, look up, and look upward forever ; 
 Yet dream thou of high-born station never ! 
 Thy humble lot cherish : shouldst leave it in pride, 
 Then ruin goes with thee, death stands at thy side." 
 
 With a quick motion she placed her arms around the 
 startled Martha, pressed a kiss on her lips, and the 
 next instant bounded away fleet and graceful as a deer. 
 
 Martha impulsively bounded after her, but the gypsy 
 maid vanished in the thicket surrounding the tower 
 before she could overtake her. 
 
 Thoughtful and puzzled, she returned to the tower, 
 where Uncle Thomas had cleared a resting-place on a 
 pile of rocks, and seated herself beside him. 
 
 "Did the young witch frighten you? A pack of 
 wretches, old and young! Sacre" nom de Dieu! the 
 fool! My little girl stuck up aspire to high-toned 
 nonsense pursue rank and station ! Tell me, my little 
 angel, did the she-wolf scare you?" 
 
 "Not at all ; she is surely a good, kind creature, and 
 meant no harm. Rest easy, dear Uncle Thomas : I have 
 no desire for high estate." Her happy, ringing laughter 
 gave assurance to her words. "But have you observed
 
 88 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 what a peculiar nook this is? If you have stumbled 
 on it accidentally, you certainly possess a remarkable 
 romantic, melancholy instinct. You made for this spot 
 with the precision, and almost the speed, of an arrow. 
 Any ordinarily-endowed individual might have searched 
 a whole day and not succeeded in finding it." 
 
 " Romantic, melancholy instinct !" grumbled the old 
 man to himself. "She hit me that time, I guess." 
 Then he said, aloud, " Humbug ! I only wanted to 
 be alone a few minutes, that's all ! The devil take 
 me!" 
 
 " Oh, uncle, not just now ! If I were left alone in 
 this place I should die ! First return poor me to the 
 bosom of my parents ; then you may go back to your 
 wished-for company, when I am safely in the arms " 
 
 "Of Albert?" 
 
 " My kindred, I was about to say ; but if you really 
 insist on including that young man among the number, 
 I shall respect this last request of yours, and submit 
 resignedly. But, uncle dear, just look around you ; 
 did you ever see anything so charmingly gloomy ? 
 Sitting under the dark shadow of this old ruin, 
 toppling with the weight of ages, all about us lie 
 scattered the moss-covered fragments. And those rocks, 
 green with mould, do they not look like fallen tomb- 
 stones and neglected graves ? The very air is freighted 
 with mildew and decay; everything seems to bear a sor- 
 rowful testimony to vanished grandeur ; while the tower 
 against which our backs are resting rises from the 
 wreck like a giant finger, reminding us of the perish- 
 able nature of all earthly things !" 
 
 Uncle Thomas grunted assent, and she continued :
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 9 
 
 " I feel such a singular oppression at ray heart ; I 
 cannot find words that will convey to you the strange 
 sadness creeping over my spirit. It is not gloom or 
 fear. You dear, old, gray veteran, here, bend your 
 head down to mine ; now turn your silvery moustache 
 to the left a little, and let your gaze wander over the 
 landscape. Does it not really appear to the eye like 
 the beautiful Promised Land? 
 
 " Do you observe the wonderful verdure, the heavy 
 splendor, of the far-away forest-trees in the back- 
 ground ? Do you see in the centre of that lovely vale 
 a little glistening spot encircled by enticing green, a 
 little lake shining in the sun like polished silver? 
 Now lift up your glance, and note the splendor of 
 the vaulted sky ! Could the azure coloring be more 
 pleasing or perfect? And the luminous eye of old Sol 
 beams mildly, smilingly, down on this paradise, like a 
 proud parent on the innocent countenance of his first- 
 born. You behold all this, do you not, uncle ? Now, 
 tell me, what is it that we see ?" 
 
 Uncle Thomas remained silent, and the girl went on 
 speaking : 
 
 "A horrible lie! Only the sun and the sky are 
 what they seem. The rest is a disgusting falsehood, a 
 wilderness of stagnation and decay ! the poisonous, 
 rotten moor, with its deceitful verdure, and its black, 
 marshy pool, bordered by its green morass and tama- 
 risk ! It is the picture of death, neglect, of horrible, 
 God-forsaken abandonment !" 
 
 Uncle Thomas's bosom rose and fell with sudden 
 emotion, and a deep sigh escaped Jiini. 
 
 Martha looked at him perplexed and surprised. 
 8*
 
 90 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 The old gentleman's head was bowed on his breast, 
 and he seemed utterly cast down. The girl threw her 
 arms around his neck, shocked and pitying, crying, 
 " Why, uncle, dear old Uncle Thomas ! What have 
 I said, what have I done, to grieve you ? What has 
 become of my jolly, laughing, ruddy friend ? You are 
 unlike yourself since that hateful old woman accosted 
 you." 
 
 Uncle Thomas heaved another heartfelt sigh. 
 
 " Uncle, you are really unhappy. Your dear, kind 
 heart is hurt. I, selfish I, have troubled you, instead 
 of cheering you. Forgive me, and be yourself again, 
 my good old darling; or tell me, please, please tell 
 me your trouble. I shall not leave this spot until the 
 distress is relieved at the confessional. Come, my child, 
 your confessor awaits." 
 
 Martha placed his face tenderly against her cheek, 
 and noticed with secret astonishment that poor Uncle 
 Thomas's eyelashes were moist with suppressed tears. 
 
 " Martha, my little girl," began he, in a voice unlike 
 his own as that of the cat to the lion, "it is an ugly 
 story, a sad and trying recollection, the gypsy brought 
 to my mind to-day. It is not a story suitable for the 
 ears of youth and innocence ; but, Martha, my girl, it 
 may do me good to speak of that past, since the young 
 gypsy also reminded me of her when she warned 
 you. Surely pride goeth before a fall. Poor Eva ! 
 poor girl ! 
 
 " You know the history of my boyhood, how I de- 
 sired to become a minister, and was forced against my 
 will to become a grocer. The proprietor of the whole- 
 sale house where I was employed, and in whose home
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 91 
 
 I boarded, had a daughter, a nice enough girl, and 
 possessed of many accomplishments; and we were good 
 friends, but only friends, so far as I was concerned. 
 One day her father called me aside, and with unex- 
 pected kindness proposed to give me an interest in his 
 business, advance me generally ; flattered my abilities, 
 heaped undeserved compliments on my character as an 
 honest, smart, steady youth, etc. ; said he had observed 
 that his daughter was pleased with my society, and as 
 he lived only for her happiness, and felt confident that 
 a young man of my moral worth was just the one neces- 
 sary to complete it Well, Martha, he gave me to 
 
 understand I might become his partner and son-in-law. 
 It was a tempting offer to one in my situation at that 
 time, and if it had not been for something that I had 
 learned about two months before, I should not have 
 hesitated. As it was, I begged permission to consider 
 and recover from such an unexpected and brilliant 
 proposition. 
 
 "You see, two months before, I had met a sweet, 
 fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, and we had made short 
 work of the lesson of love ; although her aunt and 
 guardian she was an orphan had other and more 
 exalted views for her than of marrying her to a poor 
 storekeeper like myself. She had been betrothed to a 
 man utterly unsuited to her years; but he was wealthy, 
 and her aunt did not question the girl's inclination in 
 the matter. But we met and love 1, and were be- 
 trothed in heart until I should haye a home to offer, 
 when she promised to be my wife. 
 
 " I placed the heart of the one and the offer of 
 the other in the balance that night, an4, believe me,
 
 92 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Martha, there was no fluctuation : my love was the 
 weightiest. 
 
 " The next day I went to my employer and laid rny 
 heart open to him. 
 
 " ' Charles Thomas/ said he, ' I regret exceedingly 
 that I came too late with my offer, but am glad to 
 know I did not err in my judgment of your charac- 
 ter. I esteem you more than ever for your honesty. 
 Since affairs are unalterable, I trust this personal mat- 
 ter will remain forever a secret between us. In me you 
 will henceforward find a staunch friend, and I will 
 never fail you. When you are married to the lady 
 of your heart's choice, and want money or credit to 
 begin business for yourself, remember, a hint will be 
 sufficient.' 
 
 "After that I withdrew from the family, and through 
 his influence obtained an excellent situation as traveling 
 salesman, that gave me an opportunity to familiarize 
 myself with the world and its different people. 
 
 " The parting between Eva and me was a severe 
 trial ; but we corresponded constantly, I have her let- 
 ters still, I never could bear to destroy them, until 
 almost a year had expired after my leave-taking, when 
 her letters ceased all at once. I waited, and wrote, 
 till I was almost wild with anxiety. Then I addressed 
 my old employer, the only being in our confidence ; and 
 his reply crushed me to the earth with despair. 
 
 " Eva had disappeared, probably taken her own life, 
 as portions of her clothing had been found on the sea- 
 coast, but no trace of her could be discovered beyond 
 that. Her aunt was blamed for abusing the poor girl 
 and trying to force her into a disagreeable marriage,
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 93 
 
 and the supposition generally was that the unhappy 
 Eva had drowned herself to escape this fate. 
 
 " When I, after some months, returned, I found the 
 old aunt married to the miserable creature intended for 
 Eva, and the two persecuting money-bags enjoying a 
 pious old age in the holy bonds of blissful wedlock. 
 My poor Eva was forgotten. My kind friend and 
 former employer had very likely mistaken the ordinary 
 interest his daughter evinced in my behalf for some- 
 thing more important, for the young lady was happily 
 married to a gentleman every way deserving of her. 
 
 " However, it was all the same to me : the search for 
 Eva had not been given up, although I hoped against 
 hope. 
 
 " I went abroad again. My business took me to 
 France. One evening we were driving through a little 
 hamlet on the French coast, when, through the care- 
 lessness of the driver, my wagon upset on the edge of 
 a ravine, arid was damaged to such an extent that we 
 required assistance to transfer our wares and the broken 
 vehicle to some place of safety until matters could be 
 righted again. 
 
 " I sent the driver for help, and kept guard by walk- 
 ing around the vicinity, when I was startled by a form 
 rushing past, halting an instant on the narrow foot- 
 bridge just beyond me, then dashing into the water 
 below. 
 
 " Without an instant's thought, I sprang into the 
 stream, and, with a few sturdy strokes of my arms, 
 reached the struggling woman ; then like one dead I 
 brought her to the shore, and if my driver had not 
 returned at that moment we should both have perished,
 
 94 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 for my strength failed rne, and dry land would never 
 have been reached. 
 
 " The dripping, unconscious burden was my Eva ! 
 
 " We carried her to the house of a physician, and by 
 his consummate skill breath and life were restored. 
 
 " The lady was recognized as one resident in the vil- 
 lage for about a year at a small villa belonging to a 
 certain Yon BrielofF. 
 
 "Herr von Brieloff! I recollected having heard 
 Eva's aunt mention that name, and also knew of a rich 
 young scamp, noted for his bad morals and fast living, 
 being a resident of the city, Eva's home. Could it be 
 the same ? Certainly his name in connection with her 
 prepared me somewhat for the story I had from her 
 lips when the good old doctor permitted me to see her. 
 
 " ' Oh, God is merciful !' she exclaimed, when I went 
 up to the bed where she lay, pale and glorified, her 
 large blue eyes glowing unnaturally with the fires of 
 death. 
 
 " ' Can you forgive me ? Charles ! Charles ! forgive 
 the wrong I did you !' 
 
 " Completely unmanned, I knelt at her side, sobbing, 
 1 Eva, my poor love, everything is forgiven ; only live ! 
 live !' 
 
 " Her face lost its pained expression, and she said, 
 1 Now I am at peace. Oh, Charles, you do not know 
 how I have suffered for my sin towards you. And yet, 
 when you understand the sore strait that tempted me to 
 
 break my word 1 was so unhappy after you went 
 
 away, and aunt gave me no rest, night or day, because 
 I would not marry that man that was so hateful to me. 
 Every day made matters worse, and I often meditated
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 95 
 
 destroying myself. One day, after heaping on mt all 
 the abuse possible with her tongue, she beat me, and I 
 fled, not knowing where, until I found myself in the 
 street. I had run wildly into the arms of Herr von 
 BrielofF on his way to our house. Beside myself with 
 shame and pain, I related to him my situation. 
 
 " ' He offered me marriage on the spot ; said he 
 would protect me from the whole world in future if I 
 would become his own ; drew such a picture of peace 
 and happiness, such grandeur as his wife, that, although 
 your face haunted me through it all, I consented. He 
 took me to a hotel, where a girl he had sent remained 
 my companion over-night, and the following morning 
 my dress was exchanged for elegant garments supplied 
 by him, and the girl and I entered a carriage and were 
 driven aw r ay. For seven days we traveled alone, when 
 we reached this place, and were installed in a beautiful 
 villa on the outskirts of the town. 
 
 " ' A day later, Von Brieloff arrived, and declared I 
 was considered dead by my amiable relative and friends ; 
 and the same evening we were quietly married, the 
 only witnesses being my maid and the coachman ; the 
 minister, of course, being a stranger to me. 
 
 " ' Happy in my retirement, Herr von Brieloff's 
 frequent absences did not trouble me. His- letters 
 assured me of his utter devotion, and he wrote that I 
 should soon come to the city to reside and be introduced 
 as Madame von Brieloff. 
 
 " ' Yesterday he returned, after a long absence, and, 
 taking me on his knee, embracing me repeatedly, said, 
 " What a pity, sweetheart, the play is at an end ! Only 
 think, I've been married sure and in earnest three
 
 96 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 whole weeks. Of course I'm not going to forsake you, 
 and I shall provide handsomely for your maintenance ; 
 but my lady wife has taken it into her head that she 
 wants to occupy this place herself for a day, a week, or 
 a month, and you must really do me the favor to vacate 
 right soon, my sweet." 
 
 " ' I sat like one struck dead, unable to move or utter 
 a word. Misunderstanding my silence, he continued : 
 
 "'"That is right. In this world we must bear 
 things calmly, and take good and ill as we find them." 
 
 " ' He was about to kiss me, and held me in a firm 
 embrace, when I started with horror from him. He 
 would not release me, and I spit in his face. 
 
 " ' He struck me ! 
 
 " ' He left a great pile of gold on the table, and was 
 gone. Returning after a few moments, he said, " I 
 trust, miss, you will take care of yourself, you and the 
 infant." 
 
 " ' Mocking my distress thus, he left the house. 
 
 " ' Tortured beyond expression, crazed with my dis- 
 graceful situation, I lived through the day, waiting for 
 the evening shadows, so that I could steal unseen away 
 and end my existence. And then the merciful goodness 
 of God brought me to you, that I might ask your for- 
 giveness for the misery I have caused you, and to save 
 me from the crime of self-murder. Charles, dear 
 Charles, again tell me you feel no hatred towards me. 
 Here are all his letters. I sent for them to prove that 
 I was justified in believing myself entitled to the name 
 I bore these past months. Proud, foolish, and wrong 
 I have been, but not lost to all honor. Remember, I 
 was so young, so solitary and miserable. One prayer
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 97 
 
 more grant me ; it is my dying prayer : do not seek to 
 avenge my wrongs. Promise/ she begged, as I hesi- 
 tated, burning with eager longing to hold the fiend in 
 my clutches. ( Promise by all that I have endured, by 
 the memory of our love ! Oh, Charles, for your honor's 
 sake, let my shame be buried with me ; let me die in 
 the assurance that I shall not burden your life with 
 more trouble and unrest by my act. And I know in 
 time you will find a wife and home, and you will think 
 kindly of me then.' 
 
 " I bent my lips to her white hand, and would have 
 kissed it, but, putting both arms around my neck, she 
 pressed a soft kiss on my lips, and I gave her my 
 promise I would leave him to God ! 
 
 " I tore myself overcome by the feelings of love, 
 sorrow, and revenge away, and as if insane I rushed 
 out into the night. It was snowing and blowing and 
 storming terribly. One of those early fall storms had 
 come up; but I did not mind it; I tore open the 
 clothes on my breast, so that I could breathe ; I was 
 suffocating with the internal elements, and laid my 
 bosom bare to the hail and snow. All night I walked, 
 until composure was in a measure mine again. 
 
 " Martha, child, no tongue can tell the agony of that 
 night. 
 
 " When I came back, Eva was dead ! 
 
 " The flower that bloomed for me was broken by the 
 destroying hand of a heartless knave. In the church- 
 yard of that little French hamlet my darling sleeps. 
 Do you know now where I go at a certain season once 
 a year ? 
 
 " I married years later a good, gentle woman, with 
 E 9
 
 98 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 whom I spent many happy days ; but my first love 
 never was forgotten. 
 
 "Dear child, will you think less of your old uncle 
 now that you know his heart's secret?" 
 
 " My poor, good uncle!" said Martha, caressing his 
 hand, and wiping away the tears on her cheeks. " But 
 what became of Herr von Brieloff?" 
 . " Nothing ; he is the same smooth villain to-day ; 
 prosperous in rascality, a scamp with an excellent 
 digestion, and a conscience like a rock ; just as you 
 see him daily walking, riding, or driving, well pre- 
 served under the gentle smiles of fortune." 
 
 " The same Yon Brieloff 
 
 " Yes, the same whose son received such a delightful 
 caning from Bernhard on the street, and now struts 
 about with the glittering epaulets of a lieutenant of the 
 guards, and follows in the footsteps of his worthy 
 father. The apple ^oes not fall far from the tree, par- 
 ticularly when root and core are both wormy and bad. 
 I always said so, Martha. 
 
 " The war brought us together unavoidably. Pre- 
 vious to that I had collected every proof of his scoun- 
 drelism, and the letters written in the character of 
 husband to poor Eva. 
 
 " I even saved his life on one occasion, and when he 
 called on me to express his gratitude I told him to go 
 to Eva's grave with his thanks. You should have seen 
 his coward face pale and his wicked form tremble ! 
 
 " Some years later I discovered that he had made 
 himself liable to penal servitude by fraudulent signa- 
 tures and false pretenses in some transactions with per- 
 sons I was acquainted with. I bought up all the
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 99 
 
 evidence, and hounded him until I gained a written 
 acknowledgment of his shameful act. Then I bade 
 him begone in safety, unless the time should come 
 when I should need them, and for that he was answer- 
 able. 
 
 l ' I shall never use them. Have I not given Eva 
 my sacred promise? But so long as he and I live, so 
 long shall I torment him. With all his riches, and 
 station, and seeming prosperity, he knows that I hold 
 the power to divest him of all, can send him to end 
 his days in disgrace and imprisonment ! That is my 
 revenge ! 
 
 "Now let us return to our people, little Martha; 
 they are very likely seeking us before this. But of 
 what we have spoken never repeat a word. Your 
 father knows nothing about the story of my lost Eva, 
 or of the peculiar interest I hold in that other indi- 
 vidual." 
 
 The day, with its incidents and pleasures, came to an 
 end, and when late in the evening the party returned 
 home, the moon was shining calmly over the house. 
 
 After alighting from the carriage, Mrs. Berndal re- 
 mained standing where she had a complete view of the 
 gable-roof, and gazed eagerly upward. 
 
 " What are you looking for, Lottie ?" asked the 
 judge. 
 
 " The storks, Ferdinand. The old one is not stand- 
 ing on the chimney as usual, and the nest is empty!" 
 
 " Quite probable. I have observed for several days 
 they have been making preparations for departure, and 
 holding migratory consultations in their air assemblages. 
 The time is come."
 
 100 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 "Yes, the time has come/' repeated, thoughtfully 
 and sadly, his wife. 
 
 " ' A stork on the roof brings good luck, they say. 
 
 Good luck leaves the house when the stork flies away.' " 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! Why, old lady, for twenty 
 years and more our storks have come, and gone, and 
 come again, and you pay attention to the prating of an 
 old crone. The superstitious " 
 
 " ' The storks on the roof and a home full of glee ; 
 The storks are flown he alone remains to thee.' " 
 
 Mrs. Berndal continued, as if she had not heard him. 
 
 The judge placed his arm around her, saying, as they 
 walked towards the house, "Away with such absurd 
 thoughts, wife ! the birds will return with the spring !" 
 
 " God grant it !" 
 
 " Good-night ! sleep well !" resounded from merry, 
 happy voices. 
 
 " Good-night ! good-night ! Uncle Thomas and Al- 
 bert." 
 
 The doors were closed, and quiet reigned. 
 
 "Good luck leaves the house when the stork flies away."
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ACCORDING to agreement, Judge Berndal and 
 family visited his daughter in her husband's home, 
 and Mrs. Berndal conquered in a measure the spirit 
 of foreboding that came over her like an ominous 
 cloud on the day of their visit to the gypsy-camp. 
 
 These wandering fortune-tellers and jugglers had 
 likewise disappeared, as if the earth had swallowed 
 them, for when the city authorities sent an official to 
 warn them, under penalty of arrest, to leave the coun- 
 try, not a trace of them was be found. 
 
 Gone, like and with the storks, only the latter had at 
 least left their nest behind them. 
 
 The brilliant hues of October, with its numberless 
 tints 'and beautiful emblems of death and resurrection, 
 were spread over the land, appealing to the eye and 
 the heart. 
 
 Morituri te salutant ! " We, the dying, greet you !" 
 said the falling leaves to a lonely old man, making 
 his way slowly through the forest. His bowed head 
 was covered with silvery white hair ; his hands were 
 crossed behind him ; his steps were uncertain, as if 
 his limbs were weak with age. Broken in spirit also, 
 he seated himself under a tree, his sad glance roving 
 over the autumnal scene, and murmured, 
 
 "Winter touches nature gently; change and death 
 are robbed of their grim hideonsness; transformation 
 
 9*
 
 102 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 and extinction are here dressed gayly, as if for the fes- 
 tivities that know not of dying, yet ultimately they are 
 but dust! 
 
 "To me alone change and parting come decked in 
 gloom. Merrily all nature sings; the leaves seem 
 dancing in ecstatic glee in falling. Can death indeed 
 be also the bearer of joy? Is death life? or is it what 
 it seems, the messenger of utter nothingness and corrup- 
 tion, a harrow to make the soul tremble? With the 
 knife and the probe cool human reason searches the 
 nerves and muscles of the human form, and says, 'Life 
 is extinct for all time: we find no vestige of a soul!' 
 
 "O faith! how we cling to thee and thy sweet 
 promises! My loved ones cannot die forever; I will 
 not believe it, or I should curse God ! 
 
 "Oh, thy hand rests heavily on me, thou Creator of 
 life and death!" 
 
 The old man bowed his face in his hands and wept. 
 One year ago, he faced the world in the pride and vigor 
 of manhood, prosperous, hale, and without a sorrow; 
 to-day, scarcely his most intimate friends could recog- 
 nize, in this dejected, white-headed man, Judge Berndal. 
 
 The tenth of October, one year ago, a social gather- 
 ing had assembled in honor of Judge Berndal's natal 
 day, also in memory of his election, thirty-five years 
 ago, to the magisterial office, the duties of which he 
 had discharged faithfully, to his own credit and that 
 of the corporation, during all that time. 
 
 Uncle Thomas was impatient for the nuptials of his 
 nephew and his little favorite, Martha, and grumbled 
 constantly at the delay. 
 
 Mrs. Berndal assured him the preparations were pro-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 grossing with all possible haste, but the persistent old 
 uncle insisted the day should be set, and was obliged to 
 be contented with the two months' distant holidays, 
 during which it was settled the wedding should take 
 place. 
 
 "Botheration and fussing!" he exclaimed. "I could 
 have the whole outfit ready in three days if you would 
 leave the arrangements to me." 
 
 Nevertheless, he was happy, because he had gained 
 his point in having the important day appointed. 
 
 "We are a pair of lucky old boys anyhow, Nanta," 
 said he to the judge. "Here I am, after having with 
 lamblike resignation settled myself to a lonely and for- 
 saken old age, the last scion of the noble race and 
 house of Thomas, hobbling and limping in lonesome 
 solitude down the journey of life, when suddenly rises 
 up to me a relative and son; and soon I shall hold on 
 my knee, as becomes a respectable uncle, one, two a 
 houseful of grandchildren; for I shall be grandfather 
 and grandmother, on the father's side, you know, and 
 I shall have them riding on my wooden leg and take 
 them walking. By thunder! I shall hire myself out 
 as nurse to these wonderful toddlers. Say, Martha, 
 engage me now, will you? Lord! Lord! the very 
 thought of that time fills me with joy; and may I be 
 hanged by the neck if it don't come true !" 
 
 But Martha found it necessary to attend to some im- 
 portant matters in another room just then, and did not 
 wait to reply, and Uncle Thomas turned his attention 
 to the judge again. 
 
 "Behold yourself, thou ancient castle; are you not 
 as comfortable on earth as if you were already pillowed
 
 104 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 in Abraham's bosom? Are you not as frisky as a fish 
 in a brook? Have you not got the best wife in Christen- 
 dom," Mrs. Berndal laughingly made him a courtesy, 
 " and children good and brave, that love and honor 
 you?" 
 
 Bernhard jumped up, crossed his hands in mock 
 humility over his breast, and made the old gentleman 
 a deep obeisance. 
 
 "Bomb-shell and grape-shot, I say! Three cheers 
 for all ! Hip! hip! and hip again! Let's take a drink, 
 Nanta. May you live, and your wife live, and your 
 children live, and Albert live, and I live, fifty years in 
 health and blessedness!" 
 
 The glasses were emptied, and the judge said, "Fifty 
 years is a long span for people of our years, Thomas. 
 We must make room for others, my friend ; say twenty, 
 and I will joyfully accept of the fate. Truly, we are a 
 happy family, a household united by the ties of confi- 
 dence and affection." 
 
 "We shall soon be dispersed and forsaken by our 
 loved ones," said Mrs. Berndal, sadly. 
 
 "A natural consequence, wife. It will be lonesome 
 and hard to bear at first, but is it not the doom of all 
 parents? Did not Hanisa, the renowned prophetess of 
 her people, say, 
 
 " ' The storks on the roof and a home full of glee ; 
 The storks are flown he alone remains to thee '?" 
 
 He reached her his hand and clasped hers with ex- 
 pressive tenderness, and she whispered, 
 "Thank God that you remain to me!"' 
 "Let us give due respect to the prophetess, since her
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 1Q5 
 
 lines of prediction are so soon to be fulfilled in this 
 most mysterious manner. What say you, Albert? 
 will her prophetic sagacity strike us with the same 
 profound result? I tremble at the thought : don't you?" 
 
 "Ay, Bernhard ; but did I not tell you the sibylline 
 wisdom was penetrating, the day I found you on the 
 greensward, like unto the mournful King Saul ?" 
 
 " Vulga me dios," interrupted Uncle Thomas ; " do 
 me the favor never to mention that cursed gypsy brood 
 again. It makes my flesh creep whenever I think of 
 that devilish old hag and the satanic grin on her 
 
 a 
 
 Martha, who had entered the room again, quietly 
 stole back of him and placed her hand over his mouth, 
 at the same time kissing his cheek, and the excitable- 
 tempered old gentleman forgot the rest of his speech in 
 pressing a hearty revenge on her rosy lips. 
 
 " I know how to conquer the evil spirit, uncle," said 
 she, as she seated herself at the piano and played one 
 of his favorite pieces of music. 
 
 Thus the evening passed until they separated for the 
 night, Albert and Martha arranging to meet the next 
 evening at a tavern some distance in the country, he 
 on his return from the city, she after a day's sketching 
 in the neighborhood. 
 
 The following day proved favorable, and father and 
 mother accompanied Martha to the door as she took her 
 departure with her portfolio and lunch-basket. 
 
 A gentleman acquaintance passing at that moment 
 accosted the young lady with friendly greeting : 
 
 " So early abroad, lovely fairy? are you going to rob 
 the grass of its beautifying dew ? I hope you have not
 
 106 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 
 
 neglected to provide yourself with a stout pair of shoes 
 of unromantic leather ?" 
 
 " Rest easy, sir ; my fairy toilet is complete, even to 
 the essential of calf-skin fairy boots." 
 
 " Good-by, mother ; father, adieu," said she, leaving 
 them, with a last wave of her hand. 
 
 The gentleman remained a moment, speaking to her 
 parents, then rapidly followed. Overtaking her, he 
 said. 
 
 " Permit me to accompany you, pretty elf; 'tis said 
 to be lucky to meet a fairy ; do not deny it by an in- 
 auspicious refusal." 
 
 " I shall be pleased to have your company as far as 
 the high bridge, if you really think your powers of 
 endurance can survive such bliss," she retorted, laugh- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Ah, Miss Martha," he returned, with comic earnest- 
 ness, " I could endure such exquisite bliss from early 
 morn till late at night ; yes, even survive the joy across 
 the bridge. But tell me, beautiful forest " 
 
 "Imp?" 
 
 " No, bird I was going to say, you provoking 
 par- 
 
 " Parrot?" she interrupted, with a roguish glance. 
 
 " Your pardon ! Paragon of lovely women," said 
 he, bowing. " Oh, you incorrigible tease, you are in 
 one of your charming humors this morning, and mercy 
 is not a part of it." 
 
 " Thanks for your good opinion ; you are gallantry 
 itself. However, to prove that I can be serious even 
 thus early in the morning, allow me to ask, how is your 
 sister, your dear Annie?"
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 1Q7 
 
 This lady was a friend of Martha's ; a young widow, 
 who, with her infant child, resided with her brother, 
 Captain von Kleist. 
 
 "The 'dear Annie' was sleeping so soundly when 
 I left home that a little voice at her side appeared 
 unable to wield its accustomed authority and move the 
 slumberer at will. I shouldn't be the least surprised if 
 on awaking she will imagine a nightingale, or a sweet- 
 throated lark, singing to her, when it is only the little 
 Emmie in her cradle." 
 
 " What takes you abroad so early ? if it is not too 
 inquisitive on my part to ask ; you are in civilian's 
 dress, and if it were not for the want of gun, pouch, 
 and dog, I should say Nimrod, the mighty huntsman, 
 was walking at my side ; though, indeed, he seems tame 
 as the shepherd of Arcadia." 
 
 " Nevertheless, you judge correctly, Miss Martha ; I 
 am going fox-hunting with Baron Weller, the best shot 
 in the country, and the most amiable fellow and enter- 
 taining companion that ever chased the stag or sighed 
 at lady's feet. We have a rookery in common, and 
 keep our traps there. And you, elf, fairy, bird of 
 paradise, in what direction will you take the light of 
 your countenance, and what blessed location shall you 
 honor with your sketch-book to-day ?" 
 
 " I am undecided ; I think, however, as it is so early 
 yet, I shall go into the vicinity of the marsh. There 
 are some splendid views near the Three Oaks. Are 
 you familiar with the locality?" 
 
 " I am, indeed. But, mercy ! what possesses you to 
 go there, to the horrid moor, the resort of owls, which 
 spectres haunt in broad daylight? , Adventurous elf,
 
 108 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 what can you want among the malignant, ghostly in- 
 habitants of that place? Do you not know the spirits 
 of the old monks haunt it, and drag to destruction the 
 daring mortal who ventures near? Most charming elf 
 there is not a man in my regiment brave enough to 
 spend a day near it alone. Think of it ! not a habit i- 
 tion of any kind within two hours' walk of the God- 
 forsaken place." 
 
 Martha laughed, as she replied, 
 
 " Probably your gallant grenadiers feel like their 
 valiant captain ; am I not right ?" 
 
 "Forsooth, cunning elf, you are; but the 'valiant 
 captain' has cogent reasons for remembering the moor 
 with horror as long as he lives." 
 
 "Indeed! Did you positively see ghosts stalking 
 about, most illustrious captain?" queried Martha, with 
 ironical badinage ; " pray tell me all about it. I dearly 
 love to listen to tales of thrilling, blood-curdling hor- 
 ror, and I have never been able to find the individual 
 heretofore who has had direct intercourse with a real 
 live ghost." 
 
 " Neither have I, pretty elf ; but it was only by the 
 merest chance that I escaped the disagreeable necessity 
 of joining the spiritual hobgoblins, and if you will listen 
 to the story and be warned against going to that pesti- 
 lential moor, I will tell you what happened me." 
 
 "To your story, captain. You enjoin a warning 
 without telling how you escaped so narrowly from the 
 fatal fall into .the disembodied realms." 
 
 " Laugh away, you mocking fairy ; but I can assure 
 you it was not a laughing-matter to fall into the mate- 
 rialistic filth of a bottomless marsh.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 1Q9 
 
 " When I was quite a young man, and you and the 
 1 dear Annie' were still in pinafores and the maternal 
 enjoyment of a china baby, I frequently went abroad 
 with my gun, in the company of our game-keeper, on 
 hunting expeditions in the neighborhood. During one 
 of these excursions in the vicinity of the moor, I 
 brought down a magnificent eagle. Delighted with my 
 luck, and deceived by the apparent solidity and dryness 
 of the ground, I started to secure my booty. I had 
 scarcely taken twenty steps when the crust of earth 
 broke under my feet, and I found myself sinking into 
 the quagmire, held in a suction that left me unable to 
 move a foot upward, and sinking down, down into the 
 frightful pit. 
 
 " Philip, the game-keeper, fortunately had not wan- 
 dered beyond the sound of my voice, and I am not 
 ashamed to acknowledge I howled and roared like a 
 lion for help. Inch by inch the morass rose around 
 me, until my arms almost rested on the treacherous 
 crust. Happily, my gun was one of the long Spanish 
 muskets generally used for duck-hunting. This I placed 
 in front of me, my arms spread over it, my hands 
 clutching at the grass-roots and shrubby matter about 
 me, realizing that before long this black horror would 
 be in my face, and over my head, and that I should be 
 suffocated ! 
 
 "An awful situation, pretty fairy. Philip was not 
 idle, and while shouting repeatedly, ' Don't move, for 
 God's sake !' (as if I could), he was cutting branches and 
 willowy fir boughs and throwing them lengthwise and 
 crosswise, forming a kind of bridge of them. Along 
 this he crept until he reached me, but not before I had 
 
 10
 
 HO UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 suffered a thousand torturing deaths, and already the 
 mire was above my shoulders. If it had not been for 
 my gun he would not have been able to reach me in 
 time. 
 
 " God alone knows how he managed it, but the brave 
 fellow saved me, regardless of the danger to his own life. 
 I lost consciousness, and when I recovered my senses I 
 was lying on solid ground, my eagle beside me. 
 
 "The noble fellow is comfortably housed for life 
 on the Falkenburg estate, in charge of the hunting- 
 seat. The eagle is the same you have seen at my 
 house, keeping guard, with stuffed importance, over 
 my rifle-cabinet. 
 
 " Since that day I have never desired to visit the 
 detestable spot again ; my experience will keep me at a 
 respectful distance." 
 
 " I certainly cannot blame you after listening to your 
 s'ory, and I shall select a different route for my sketch- 
 ing views, where reminiscences of your distressing 
 plight will not haunt me," replied Martha, seriously. 
 
 In a short time they reached the bridge; while 
 crossing, they paused on its elevated centre to admire 
 the scenery and the magnificence of the landscape, the 
 prospect covering miles of picturesque land and water. 
 
 On the other side they parted, with a few polite re- 
 marks, just as Lieutenant von Brieloff and a squad of 
 soldiers passed by on their way to the city. Farther 
 on, a country-girl, on her way to town with apples, 
 offered Martha some. 
 
 Captain von Kleist crossed over the country road 
 towards the Fox Mountains, and Martha walked in 
 the opposite direction along the sea-coast.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. m 
 
 In the evening Albert, according to agreement, went 
 to the tavern to meet his intended, but she had not 
 been there. He waited until long after dark, but she 
 did not come; and at last, without feeling particularly 
 alarmed, he started for home, believing she would be 
 there before him. 
 
 On arriving there, however, he found that Martha 
 had not returned. He set out again immediately, 
 and, uncertain what direction she might have taken, 
 he waited at the bridge until after midnight; but all 
 in vain ; and once more he returned home, to find the 
 family distressed and anxious, for no Martha was there. 
 
 Judge Berndal, unable to bear the suspense, resolved, 
 although it was after two o'clock at night, to go to the 
 residence of Captain von Kleist, with whom she had 
 left the house in the morning, trusting he could give 
 some information regarding her movements. 
 
 Captain von Kleist had not returned, his sister in- 
 formed the judge, and she had w r atched in the greatest 
 uneasiness all night for his momentary coming. 
 
 Incomprehensible as the absence of both appeared, 
 the troubled father was obliged to return to the now 
 thoroughly-alarmed family with this unsatisfactory re- 
 sult. 
 
 Days passed, and no trace of Martha or the captain 
 could be discovered. Hope was buried in the convic- 
 tion that Martha had met with misfortune and death, 
 and l.er fate cast a pall of deepest gloom on the loving 
 hearts at home. The disappearance of the young girl 
 was connected with the likewise mysterious absence of 
 Captain von Kleist. Lieutenant von BrielofF, with 
 commendable enterprise, spread the report over the
 
 112 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 city, that he had seen them in company crossing the 
 bridge. The country-girl's testimony of having seen 
 them walking in opposite directions was very well in 
 its way; but people will believe that which presents 
 human nature in its basest light. The occurrence was 
 discussed with fabulous additions and peculiar sug- 
 gestions ; a report even gaining a hearing that the lost 
 ones had dashed themselves headlong over the bridge 
 into the water. To be sure, people could not give any 
 reason for such a rash act ; still, for an extemporaneous 
 fiction, it was the most harmless one. 
 
 Very likely it was the result of a secret love-affair 
 between the two, a stand-off between pride and heart. 
 Martha loved the captain, and was engaged to Albert ; 
 perforce, duty, love, etc. 
 
 Then, again, who could believe a stupid country-girl, 
 when Lieutenant von Brieloff had sworn to having seen 
 them gazing in melancholy silence into the waves be- 
 low ? And was not his word supported by the testi- 
 mony of some thirty grenadiers in uniform, including 
 the drummer and fifer ? Very strange, that two good- 
 looking young folks should take such an early morning 
 walk together, if there was not something mysterious 
 back of it. 
 
 " I have been prepared for this," said one wise 
 woman to another. " I do not profess to know more 
 than some others in this place, but I was certain some- 
 thing would happen in that family. My ears were 
 given me to hear with, and my eyes were given me to 
 see with, just as well as other folks'; but, Lord bless 
 you, they give us to understand plain enough that we 
 are idiots, that is to say, in their opinion.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. H3 
 
 "Now, I don't say one word against the judge and 
 his wife. They may be very clever, honorable people. 
 But you cannot deny that they had secretly a child of 
 unknown parentage in their family. To be sure, it was 
 four years after they were married ; and the mother of 
 the young one drowned herself. Although nobody 
 knew anything about the woman, it seems very strange 
 Judge Berndal should happen to find the child just in 
 the nick of time ; and his wife takes it as her own, 
 and keeps the affair mighty quiet. Then all at once a 
 rich uncle claims the boy. This, of course, is all acci- 
 dental. Yes, but such things never happen in my 
 family ! 
 
 " And such management ! Such a way to bring up 
 children ! They walked right over everybody. Those 
 boys were the worst scamps I ever saw. No fence was 
 too high, no hedge too thick, no ditch too wide for them 
 to get over. And the way they ruined clothes was 
 scandalous ; and they cut up and carried on so awful 
 they had to be put in the lock-up, and I would not let 
 my little Charley associate with them any more ; that 
 was too much of a disgrace for me !" 
 
 And the other wise woman said, "Too true, Mrs. 
 Schneider. And the girls were not far behind. They 
 wore out more shoes than any other young person in 
 town; and wild, oh! such filibusters in the shape of 
 girls you never saw. One day I had to take some 
 shoes to the house that one of the misses had ordered. 
 I found the front door open, and I thought no harm 
 to take a look at things, and was walking along the 
 corridor, when the two creatures came storming in 
 from the garden, and frightening me almost to death, 
 
 10*
 
 114 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 laughing and screaming at the top of their lungs, 
 ' Good-evening, mother shoemaker, good-evening; have 
 you brought my boots?' And what think you they 
 had in their hands ? Ugh ! I nearly fainted at the 
 sight ! 
 
 " One had a horrible spider, and the other an out- 
 rageous, nasty toad ! I trembled with fright ; but the 
 wretches only laughed, and one opened the mouth of 
 the toad, and the other put the spider into it, saying, 
 'A good digestion, my friend,' and then they let the 
 poor beast hop away. 
 
 " Oh, you should have seen that unhappy creature ! 
 At first it sat stock still, and when the poisonous spider 
 began to devour its internals, it began to leap and jump. 
 It makes me faint to think of it to this day. And 
 away it went, to die alone, I expect, with torture and 
 spider-bites, and the heartless hoidens stood there 
 laughing ! 
 
 " When I went home, I said to my old man, the 
 sainted shoemaker who died soon after, 'Shoemaker.' 
 said I, ' mark my words, something will happen to that 
 family ; such inhuman cruelty to the good Lord's inno- 
 cent creatures will come home to them ;' and pat to the 
 words it has come true." 
 
 There are a great many tender-hearted persons in 
 this world who could not wring a pigeon's neck, but 
 can summon a degree of courage and fortitude per- 
 fectly wonderful to assist at the scalding and plucking 
 process. 
 
 A day or two after the disappearance of his sister, 
 Dr. Berndal entered a gentlemen's restaurant, utterly 
 worn out with the day's excitement, and, physically as
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. H5 
 
 well as mentally depressed, seated himself at one of the 
 tables to rest. 
 
 Directly after his entrance, Lieutenant von Brieloff 
 came in, and, passing the young man without a glance 
 of recognition, joined a party of gentlemen at an ad- 
 joining table. After ordering a glass of grog, he slowly 
 and deliberately said to his companions, 
 
 "Have you heard the latest delightful bit of gossip 
 about that Berndal affair? The pretty little duck has 
 eloped with Captain Kleist, gone to England !" 
 
 His companions motioned to him to be silent, and 
 glanced in the direction of Dr. Berndal ; but, without 
 seeming to understand, he continued still louder : 
 
 " Charming bird, that little Martha. Yon Kleist is 
 a lucky dog; I would like to stand in his boots, 
 by 
 
 Bernhard rose. Calm, and with icy dignity, he 
 walked over, and, facing him, said, " Lieutenant von 
 Brieloff will give me the name of his informant, the 
 author of this lie ?" 
 
 Von Brieloff measured the speaker with a scornful 
 glance, and, placing his eye-glasses to his eyes, he re- 
 plied, " Ah, Dr. Berndal ; really, I was not aware of 
 your presence ; but pray do not annoy me with any 
 coarse incivility. I merely repeat what all the world 
 says." 
 
 "Indeed!" replied Bernhard, quietly; "then, since 
 you proclaim yourself 'all the world's' trumpeter, be 
 pleased to herald in your person that it is a lie, and 
 that I declare ' all the world' an infamous liar, in as 
 far as the story concerns my sister ; and, furthermore, 
 that I pronounce its representative, the person I am
 
 116 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 addressing, a contemptible scoundrel, because he is 
 capable of slandering the fame and honor of his supe- 
 rior officer and an absent gentleman !" 
 
 Von Brieloff sprang to his feet and placed his hand 
 on his sword to draw, when one of his companions 
 held his arm to prevent the act. 
 
 Bernhard advanced a step nearer the enraged man, 
 saying, " No occasion to draw your sword, Lieutenant 
 von Brieloff. I should regret to be forced to renew a 
 former acquaintance, with the aid of my cane, on a gen- 
 tleman whose courage appears to be of such recent and 
 remarkable growth. In the event of your desire to 
 communicate with me, I can be found at my residence 
 at any hour between this and eight o'clock to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 Having said this, he bowed politely to the company, 
 drank his glass of lemonade, and walked unconcernedly 
 and tranquilly out of the establishment. 
 
 It was with difficulty the others could restrain Von 
 Brieloff from some excited and desperate move. 
 
 " A very disagreeable affair," said one. " How could 
 you mention the matter, Von Brieloff? We gave you 
 the w T ink in time ; why didn't you change the subject ? 
 Did you not know him personally, or did you not un- 
 derstand us ?" 
 
 " Of course I knew him. I owe him a score of old, 
 and mean to pay it." 
 
 "Look out, Von Brieloff; he seems a cool hand ; 
 he never moved a muscle when you walked over his 
 .corns." 
 
 " I'll clean him out, by ! I can snuff a candle 
 
 at twenty paces ; never miss ! I'll snuff his light for
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. H7 
 
 him, the miserable plebeian ! I shall have pistols ; 
 know how to use 'em." 
 
 " Certainly ! certainly !" exclaimed a beardless youth, 
 who probably would not have been so blood-thirsty if 
 the affair had been his own. " You must kill him ; 
 honor demands ; threatened cane. By heaven, kill him 
 dead ! If it was me, his heart's blood should flow ! 
 The beast !" 
 
 Lieutenant von Brieloff assured them all he would 
 "snuff the plebeian out;" and they left in his com- 
 pany, satisfied to have somebody else "snuffed out, 
 'pon honor !" 
 
 Bernhard hastened home, and locked himself in his 
 room, his heart burning and his blood boiling with 
 indignation. 
 
 So this was public sympathy ! adding disgrace to 
 their distress ! Oh, if his parents should hear such 
 calumnious reports in connection with their missing 
 daughter, the sorrow and shame would drag their 
 already overcharged hearts to the grave ! 
 
 He walked the floor, his eyes flashing with bitter 
 hatred towards the malicious circulator, and he doubted 
 not also inventor, of the story. The prospect of stand- 
 ing face to face with him, and of washing the base lie 
 from the earth with the coward's blood, or dying in the 
 attempt, elated him beyond bounds. 
 
 When Albert returned also from a fruitless tour of 
 inquiry, Bernhard related the circumstance and its prob- 
 able result. 
 
 Inflamed with anger, he begged to be permitted to 
 take Bernhard's place and avenge the insult to his 
 intended wife and her family ; but that was not to be
 
 118 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 thought of for an instant, and Albert had to content 
 himself as second for the time being. 
 
 Shortly after, the anxiously-expected challenge ar- 
 rived. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ABOUT nine o'clock the next morning two closely- 
 curtained carriages passed slowly through the city gate. 
 The toll-collector had seen them pass out two hours 
 earlier, and now advanced to attend to his duty, but 
 started back horrified at the sight that met his eyes. 
 
 The first one contained Albert, and lying in his 
 arms was the deathly-pale Bernhard Berndal, the blood 
 spattered over his garments. The ball of his opponent 
 had lodged in his breast. The other carriage contained 
 the second of the other party, supporting the corpse of 
 Lieutenant von Brieloif. 
 
 The toll-keeper was destined to repeated surprising 
 horrors to-day, for the carriages with their ghastly con- 
 tents had not started before a third wagon came up. 
 It was only an ordinary farmer's team, in charge of a 
 farmer and a forest-warder, or inspector. Back of 
 them sat a city official. 
 
 The toll-keeper looked into the wagon, as in duty 
 bound, when the officer raised a corner of an old 
 blanket covering some object, and disclosed the to 
 him familiar features, now stark in death, of Captain 
 von Kleist. 
 
 The three vehicles rolled over the bridge with their 
 awful burdens and entered the city.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. H9 
 
 The previous day, Assistant-Warden Bartal had 
 taken his dog to make the rounds of the hunting- 
 circuit at Fox Mountain Forest. Nearing a dense body 
 of firs, the dog acted strangely, and began to whine, 
 disappeared in the shrubbery, with an unearthly howl. 
 With difficulty Bartal pressed his way through the 
 thicket, and found his dog pulling and leaping over 
 something, that proved to be the dead body of Captain 
 von Kleist, lying in a pool of gore, stiff and stark. 
 
 Bartal, a sensible and intelligent man, left the body, 
 and, without saying a word to any one, went direct 
 with his information to the proper authorities. 
 
 The investigating committee conducted their affairs 
 with equal secrecy, and thus the toll-house-keeper was 
 the first person, outside of those connected with the au- 
 thorities and Bartal, who had the remotest conception 
 of the terrible fate of the missing man. 
 
 A death-dealing bullet had penetrated his brain; 
 another his breast. There had evidently been no 
 struggle : the hand that sent the death-shots was at a 
 distance ; and the case was never cleared up : in spite 
 of public and private rewards offered, and detectives' 
 skill, the deed remained a mystery. 
 
 Lieutenant von Brieloff paid the penalty of his life 
 for the unfounded and unjust rumor that connected the 
 name of the murdered man with that of Judge Berndal's 
 daughter. 
 
 But where was Martha Berndal? 
 
 The excitement became great, and inquiry universal 
 now, over the whole city. No human being had seen 
 them alive since they were seen in parting at the high 
 bridge.
 
 120 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Captain von Kleist found murdered in the Fox Moun- 
 tain Forest; Lieutenant von Brieloff killed in a duel; 
 Dr. Berndal lying at the point of death with his 
 wounds; Martha Berndal vanished from the face of 
 the earth, for all trace that could be found of her : 
 thus matters stood in their cloak of misfortune. 
 
 One day it was rumored that Martha Berndal had 
 lost her life in the marsh. A peasant had found a hat 
 and shawl that proveTl to have been the property of the 
 lost girl. 
 
 Christian Puttkow, or simply Cris, as he was gen- 
 erally called, was a laboring man from a settlement some 
 miles distant from the moor. Saturday evening, the 
 18th of October, he had taken his cart and axe and 
 gone in the direction of the dreaded location, where he 
 would be least likely to be surprised in his enterprise, 
 namely, cutting hickory-poles where he paid no tax, 
 and where they were so abundant they would not be 
 missed. 
 
 It was a bright moonlight evening. Cris stole quietly 
 along in the shadow of the trees until he arrived un- 
 disturbed at the calculated spot in sight of the moor. 
 A thick vapor hovered over it like a cloud, completely 
 obscuring its surface. 
 
 Cris was looking about him preparatory to his work, 
 when he thought he heard a sound or cry from the 
 moor. He was familiar with the cries of beast and bird, 
 and felt assured this sound could not have come from 
 either. 
 
 Cris was a healthy, brave-spirited man, who knew 
 little or nothing about nerves and their tenderness. He 
 was at home in the forest, and prided himself on his
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 121 
 
 utter disregard of everything bordering on supersti- 
 tion; he scorned the nonsensical stories related about 
 witchcraft and monkish apparitions, although he had 
 been fed on the usual tales to which the peasantry is 
 addicted, that are handed down from one generation to 
 another. 
 
 The ordinary peasant listens respectfully to his ortho- 
 dox pastor while he depicts hell-fire, but he does not 
 believe in it entirely, because it is personally supposed 
 to be uncomfortable. Still, he accepts the devil, horns, 
 hoofs, and tail, unquestioningly. This black gentleman 
 used to make his appearance regularly once a year in an 
 assembly of Freemasons and carry away bodily one of 
 their number; that is Avhy St. John's day was one of 
 fear and trembling to the Freemason. Of 'late days 
 he sends his granddam to catch one of their number by 
 the nape of the neck and reverse his head. Yes, the 
 Masons have a bond of sympathy with his majesty and 
 gld Liza and the black cat. This is one of the honest 
 beliefs of the peasantry; still, they will swear one and 
 all that they are above superstition. 
 
 Cris was brave; he would have taken a mad bull 
 by the horns or have faced anything mundane without 
 a thought of fear. But this moor was a doubtful 
 place. Cris possessed a conscience ; he was engaged 
 in an unlawful undertaking, and this cry startled him 
 out of his stoicism. He clutched at one of his stolen 
 poles and gazed in helpless amazement towards the 
 foggy cloud from whence the sound seemed to come. 
 Again that pitiful voice reached him. Surely that 
 was a warning; it said, "Cris, turn from your wicked 
 doings; reibrm; don't steal any more." Xo; perhaps 
 v 11
 
 122 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 it was one of those wicked monks trying to entice him 
 into the bog. 
 
 The piteous cry was repeated, falling on the still 
 night air with dolorous pleading, touching his heart 
 with pity irresistible. 
 
 He began to tremble; he must fly home, away from 
 this awful enticing sound, before destruction should 
 overtake him. 
 
 He had gone but a few steps, when some formless 
 object rose out of the cloud of vapor and came directly 
 towards him, dashing itself against his limbs and cling- 
 ing to his feet, followed by a heart-rending wail from 
 the moor. 
 
 Cris's limbs lost their power of locomotion; his 
 courage was gone; he fell to the ground and gave him- 
 self up for lost. Everything remained quiet; then, 
 after waiting some time to be carried away and buried 
 alive in the moor, in hopeless terror he hazarded a 
 glance, and began to collect his faculties. 
 
 The hobgoblin object still clung to his legs and feet 
 in harmless silence, and he ventured to examine it more 
 closely. He sat up, and, after staring at its peaceful 
 attitude, he made one heroic clutch, expecting it would 
 vanish; but he looked again, and found himself hold- 
 ing a very innocent ghost indeed. 
 
 "Oh, a hat! only a lady's hat!" he exclaimed, rising 
 to his feet; then, like a flash, the incident connected 
 itself with the cry he had heard. Some person was 
 lost on the moor, perhaps even now sinking, dead or 
 dying, into the horrible marsh. Forgetting spirits, 
 hobgoblins, and everything but the fact that a human 
 being might be perishing, he ran to the moor, shouting
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 123 
 
 with all his might, "Is any one there? Where are 
 you?" 
 
 He shouted, and listened, and waited, in vain. Fear- 
 ing lest he had come too late, he returned to his cart 
 uneasy and distressed, carrying the hat, and grumbling, 
 "Cris, this is what comes of doing certain things that 
 are forbidden in this world. Traveling in evil ways 
 has made a fool and a coward of you. For shame, Cris ! 
 a great strong lubber like you to lie on the ground in 
 fright, while some unhappy, suffering human being cries 
 for help ! Cris, I'm disgusted with you." 
 
 Self-reproaching, and now thoroughly himself again, 
 he took up his march for home. Coming out of the 
 wood, he was seized by the arm, and a voice said, 
 pathetically, 
 
 " Cris ! Cris ! my old friend and comrade, stealing 
 wood ! In our old days to be obliged to become ene- 
 mies, and I must suffer the disgrace of putting you in 
 the kennel. What will people say, tell me that, when 
 they find out that my most intimate friend is a thief? 
 What will they say about me, hey?" 
 
 " Halloo, Henry ! is that you ? Just hold on a bit, 
 and thank God there is no occasion to make an arrest !" 
 
 "And why not? Where are your poles? What 
 are you doing here? Come, give up your axe and stop 
 lying ! I've stood guard here for three hours. I knew 
 it was the only road you could take. Oh, Cris ! Cris ! 
 you villain! you thief !" 
 
 " Well, all I've got to say is you've had your watch- 
 fulness for your pains ! How do you know I went 
 after poles?" 
 
 " You dare tell me that ! Worse and worse ! How
 
 124 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 do I know you went after poles ? I'll tell you : I went 
 to your house about eight o'clock, to have a sociable 
 half-hour ; I didn't see any one but your little boy. I 
 asked him where his mother was, and he said, ' At the 
 neighbor's.' Then I asked for you, and the innocent 
 child answered that you had taken your axe and gone 
 to get poles to mend the fence. There now, that's how 
 I know I" 
 
 " Yes," replied Cris, " I know now, too. But see 
 here, comrade ; you have known me fourteen years, did 
 I ever tell you a lie in that time ?" 
 " I never caught you at it, anyhow." 
 " And you have considered me an honest man ?" 
 " As a friend I could have no use for you if such 
 had not been the case." 
 
 " Then let us move home ; it's beginning to rain, and 
 the moon is under the clouds for the night. I can 
 explain things so that you will still believe I am 
 honest. 
 
 " You see, Henry, the other night the storm and 
 wind destroyed my hedge back of the house, and when 
 I began fixing it up again I found I needed a few dozen 
 more poles. And Lena, my wife, she said, ( Crischen, 
 money is scarce, and we are expecting an increase before 
 long that will use up every extra cent. Now, you take 
 your cart and go out in the woods, in God's name, and 
 get a few of the miserable tilings that grow for nobody's 
 good in particular ; they are as plenty as the leaves on 
 the trees, and look just alike. And to-morrow when 
 your fence is finished none will be the wiser for it, and 
 no hen will cackle the truth abroad.' You might know 
 how I felt about it. I wanted to do it, and I didn't
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 want to ; but I took my axe and cart and went. It 
 might have been a serious business, and you might 
 have been obliged to lock me up sure enough, if the 
 good Lord had not intended to the contrary. Just as 
 I had found the spot for my poles, I had such a fright 
 that I ran away without one blow or one pole." 
 
 " Pshaw ! that is a story for the like of me to 
 believe, now, isn't it?" said Henry, in derision. 
 
 "You don't believe me? Here, convince yourself ; 
 look at my axe ; it is newly ground : that will tell 
 whether it has been used since it left the grindstone." 
 
 " I believe you, Cris, old fellow, and a great load 
 is taken from my stomach to know that my friend is 
 deserving of my confidence. If you had gone to the 
 kennel, and I would have sent you there if you had 
 not proved yourself innocent, our friendship would 
 have been at an end ; that, Crischen, is what hurt me." 
 
 " You are a good soul, Henry. I only wonder I did 
 not remember this was your district. I should not 
 have put such an affront on you as to steal wood that 
 is under your care. But these women ! these women ! 
 They drive the devil in and sense out ! 
 
 " Now we are at my house, you can just stay here 
 all night. Lena can sleep with the children, and you 
 can bed with me. A sup, and a bit of sausage and 
 bread, and then I will tell you what happened me 
 while we are enjoying a rest and a bite." 
 
 The wife fetched the desired bottle, bread, and 
 sausage, and between the bites Cris related his adven- 
 ture, and wound up with a sigh of relief, saying, 
 
 " It's the first and last time, I swear it, that I will 
 allow myself to be talked into doing anything that 
 
 11*
 
 126 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 won't bear the light of clay, though money be ever so 
 scarce and fifty increases be expected." 
 
 Henry looked very thoughtful ; then, having decided 
 in his mind what had best be done, he said, 
 
 " Well, Crischen, there is only one thing to be done : 
 you will have to go to the city early to-morrow morn- 
 ing and report this matter, and take the hat along. It 
 may throw some light on that awful story of Judge 
 Berndal's daughter. I was told to-day that young Von 
 Kleist was found murdered; and if that is the case, the 
 girl certainly hasn't run away to England with him." 
 
 Cris did not object to this, but he hoped the authori- 
 ties would not press him in regard to the business that 
 took him to the marsh at that late hour. 
 
 After breaking their fast the next morning, the two 
 men started with the hat to the city. Taking the road 
 that led by the marsh, Cris led Henry to the spot 
 where he had met with his fright, and, pointing to the 
 moor, he said, 
 
 " And there she lies ! Oh, Henry, see ! she is still 
 alive !" 
 
 Truly, some dark object was lying not far from the 
 dry land, and motion was perceptible. 
 
 They called to it, but observed only a faint move- 
 ment in response. They then consulted in reference 
 to a safe way of reaching it, and hit upon an impro- 
 vised bridge similar to that once thrown across this 
 dangerous place in rescuing Captain von Kleist from 
 his perilous position. 
 
 When they at last reached the object, it proved to be 
 only a woman's shawl that had been rolled into a mass, 
 leaving a corner free to the motions of the wind, de*
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 127 
 
 ceiving the men into the belief that the object was living. 
 The treacherous crust of earth was unbroken beneath it. 
 
 Carefully they returned with the shawl, and resumed 
 their journey to the city, Henry feeling the importance 
 of adding his personal testimony to the discovery. 
 
 Hat and shawl were recognized by the parents and 
 relatives as the property of the missing girl. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE distressed family and puzzled detectives con- 
 sidered that now they had a clue to the fate of the 
 unfortunate girl. 
 
 The vicinity of the marsh was scoured for miles 
 around, citizens joining heartily in the search. 
 
 Uncle Thomas and Albert the latter driven to the 
 verge of insanity with the alternate hope and despair 
 of again seeing the object of his adoration, were un- 
 tiring in their vigilance. 
 
 There was certainly something remarkable about 
 the circumstance related by Cris, and it gave the tor- 
 tured lover some hope. On Monday, October 13 
 Martha had vanished as it were from the surface of 
 the earth. Cris testified that on the evening of October 
 18, after a lapse of six days, he had heard those heart- 
 rending cries. It was impossible to believe she cou'd 
 survive the horror and suffocating atmosphere of a fall 
 into the marsh that length of time, and, connecting the 
 cries with the finding of the hat and shawl at the ex-
 
 128 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 piration of so many days and nights, a little glim- 
 mering of hope whispered that she might not have 
 perished so horribly, and perchance was_ still among 
 the living. 
 
 With renewed courage the minutest trifles were 
 observed, and among the papers scattered over and 
 trampled into the ground where the gypsy-camp had 
 been, a leaf from a sketch-book was found. 
 
 The faint outlines of some drawing, that had been 
 partly erased by the rain and moisture of the ground, 
 were discernible on one side. On the other side, who 
 can describe the feelings that racked the hearts of lover 
 and relatives as a keen scrutiny was enabled to glean 
 from the almost obliterated, weather-blotted characters 
 the words traced by Martha's hand ? 
 
 . . . "16 Oct. . . . help me! I ... able situation 
 . . . st perish . . . moor . . . 
 
 "MARTHA BERNDAL." 
 
 There was not one of all that sympathizing party 
 of strangers or friends who witnessed the inexpressible 
 agony of the parents, the anguish of Albert, who would 
 not gladly have given a year of life, had it availed, to 
 unravel the mystery that seemed to grow darker with 
 each new discovery. 
 
 Farmers, peasants, and citizens, for miles in all direc- 
 tions, joined the search by evening, and with torches 
 and lanterns the woods and moor were hunted over 
 again and again. Nothing further was found. 
 
 Uncle Thomas, recollecting about the sudden disap- 
 pearance of the pretty gypsy-girl the day she warned 
 Martha under the shadow of the ruined old bell-tower,
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 129 
 
 suggested a possible entrance ; but, after repeated as- 
 surances from many others who had sought vainly, and 
 failing himself, he was convinced no human being could 
 surmount the rubbish or gain the interior. 
 , As day after day passed, and every human exertion 
 was fruitless, the search was at last abandoned. Martha 
 must have lost her life in the moor. There was, there 
 could be, no other reasonable conjecture, and that was 
 generally accepted in regard to the lost girl. 
 
 It was wonderful to note the changing opinion of 
 people, and the remarkable adaptability of mind to 
 circumstance. When the large and small public had 
 decided beyond peradventure that Miss Martha Bern- 
 dal was dead, had died a shocking but respectable 
 death, their sympathy with her parents was as earnest 
 as their memory was short, that is to say, defective. 
 
 It would have been difficult to find the individual 
 who had ever hinted, in the remotest way even, that a 
 daughter of Judge Berndal was capable of indulging 
 in a melancholy love-affair, much less stooping to an 
 elopement. 
 
 " Ah, the wicked world ! the unjust world !" cried 
 Mrs. Schneider, wiping away the tears. " I always said 
 it was strange something did not happen that family. 
 They were so good to the poor; always paid their bills 
 promptly ; them's the folks that suffer most in this evil 
 world. Poor, dear young lady !" 
 
 " Yes, that is only too true," said Mrs. Shoemaker, 
 sadly meditative. " How any mean-spirited person 
 could believe that the pure, gentle-hearted girl could 
 run away with Captain von Kleist, or any other man, 
 beats me ; and it's little they knew her strict, honorable
 
 130 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 parents, or the tender-hearted girl herself: I always 
 said she was too good for this world !" 
 
 While the least mistrust lingered in regard to the 
 disappearance of Martha, all well-regulated families, 
 having the necessary amount of respect for their own 
 reputation and honor, remained aloof from the house 
 of misfortune; their commiseration extending, how- 
 ever, to cook or servant for inquisitive information con- 
 nected with the distressed family. 
 
 Now, the extreme fellowship of sorrow reached such 
 an enormous limit that it literally overflowed. From 
 morn till eve the door was besieged by tender-hearted 
 callers, who came to offer heartfelt condolences, and 
 mingle their burning tears of friendship with those of 
 the afflicted ones, until the ringing sympathy became a 
 source of annoyance, and the bell had to be muffled, 
 and the mourning visitors retraced their tardy steps. 
 
 Again the mother sat beside her boy, as years agone 
 she had watched his infant breathing, between hope 
 and fear. No smile now lights his countenance, as then 
 suddenly cheered her so lately bereaved mother-heart. 
 To-day she mourns again more bitterly her lovely, 
 loving daughter. 
 
 There is a season in every life when our sorrows vent 
 themselves in noisy lamentations ; pain and grief seem 
 to master all our faculties ; we storm against humanity 
 and God ; feel as if life was wrecked eternally ; won- 
 der how the sun can shine, or the stars dare twinkle, 
 when our sky is dark and lowering. 
 
 The enthusiasm of youth and health receives joy and 
 sorrow with a like measure; but at this season we begin 
 to comprehend that spring and sunshine are followed
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 by storms and icy winter ; we realize likewise that ex- 
 perience is a teacher we cannot escape. 
 
 But the elasticity of youth is also ours. The violence 
 of the overtasked heart rebounds with salubrious vigor. 
 The youth raves in distracted torment for the loss of a 
 loved object, an unfaithful love, perhaps, that at one 
 blow destroys the sweetest dreams of life. He thinks 
 the earth contains no other joy for him ; his hope and 
 ambition are gone : he wants to die ! But wait, he is 
 young, and has time to forget. 
 
 Oh, the glory of youth ! 
 
 The youth forgets his loved one ; the maiden forgets 
 her first love ; the young husband can forget his wife, 
 and the young widow her husband. They can all bury 
 their griefs in -the long years that replace the lost 
 treasures; they have hope and a future, for they are 
 young. 
 
 There is no healing balm of forgetfulness for the old ; 
 when the border-life of youth is past, we stand tired 
 with our earlier combat ; hardened and braced ; often 
 meeting the severest pain and shock with resignation 
 and composure, to all outward seeming, when the 
 tongue is silent and the tear repressed ere it overleaps 
 the eyelash. We do not rebel or murmur, storm or 
 lament; voiceless our grief travels on to death, tor- 
 turing the heart like the fabled vultures gnawing at 
 the chained Prometheus ; unceasing and unending, the 
 sorrow remains our companion the rest of our few 
 years, for we cannot forget. What fate takes from us 
 it cannot replace ; age has no future, and it gazes ever 
 into the past or towards eternity ! 
 
 Uncomplaining, tearless, the unhappy mother fol-
 
 132 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 lowed her accustomed routine of duties, or sat beside 
 the unconscious Bernhard. Only her Creator knew the 
 measureless suffering to which her heart was subjected 
 when he was brought home, more dead than alive, 
 while her soul was strained to its uttermost with the 
 uncertainty of Martha's fate. 
 
 And yet the strong man, Judge Berndal, was com- 
 pletely broken down, and lay for hours prostrated and 
 helpless; while the frail, weak woman remained firm; 
 as long as her treasures needed her, morning, noon, 
 and night she was beside them. 
 
 Another week went by. Bernhard was no better, 
 and little hope of his recovery was entertained. His 
 pale mother rarely left his side; tearless and unob- 
 servant of everything but his need, she sat for hours 
 without seeming to hear or see any one. Occasionally 
 she would pass her hand over her dark, hollow eyes, 
 as if trying to shut out some memory, or to remem- 
 ber where she was. Uncle Thomas was nearly wild 
 with anxiety for her, but she only begged to be per- 
 mitted to stay with Bernhard when they tried to make 
 her rest or sleep. 
 
 Matilda, as soon as the news of the fearful calamity 
 at home reached her, hastened to her mother ; and just 
 as Judge Berndal was leaving his door one morning, 
 the coach drew up, and a voice tremulous with emo- 
 tion cried, " Father ! dear, dear father !" He turned 
 to catch the form of his daughter as she sprang with 
 outstretched arms out of the coach, but before he 
 reached her she had fallen, her dress catching on the 
 door as she made the hasty leap, and she was flung 
 with terrible force against the stepping-stone.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 133 
 
 Senseless she was carried into the house. The fall 
 resulted in some severe internal injuries, followed by 
 dangerous hemorrhages, and it was days before she was 
 considered out of danger. This last shock was too 
 much even for that long-suffering mother-heart. At 
 last her weary mind found oblivion in the delirium of 
 brain-fever. 
 
 The house of peace and joy had become a house of 
 sorrow and suffering. Judge Berndal was but the 
 shadow of himself. Albert nobly strove to conquer 
 his own trouble sufficiently to be. useful to his dear, 
 afflicted friends. Uncle Thomas sat in the house like a 
 prostrated maniac, gazing helplessly at his wooden leg. 
 
 Thus care-bowed, and without one ray of hope, Judge 
 Berndal wandered abroad for a little while, to renew his 
 faith and trust in God's mercy in the free air, where all 
 nature cried aloud, 
 
 "Old man, be not discouraged; rise up. The eye of 
 the Father is over all. He doeth all things well." 
 
 As if the leaves and birds had whispered consolation, 
 he returned home cheered and refreshed. 
 
 The sick were pronounced out of danger. Albert 
 had business that required his attendance in a neigh- 
 boring city, and Uncle Thomas was to accompany him. 
 When the carriage stood at the door and they were 
 about to take their' leave, Uncle Thomas suddenly 
 changed his mind. 
 
 "By the Lord Harry!" he exclaimed, with a suspi- 
 cious moisture in his eyes, and blowing his nose with a 
 stentorian blast, "Nanta, I'll be eternally burnt if I'm 
 going to be brute enough to forsake you! AVhat! go 
 and leave you alone in your trouble? By thunder! I 
 
 12
 
 134 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 hope the devil will get his fill of me if I do ! Good- 
 by, Albert. God be with you ! I remain." Then, 
 taking the judge by the arm, he said, as he watched the 
 carriage roll away, "I guess that boy is big enough to 
 take care of himself; but you, Nanta, I cannot leave 
 this house until I see that face in smiles again ; and 
 your wife, bless her! I cannot live unless I know 
 momentarily of her improvement; I'd rather go and 
 hang myself than suffer the tortures of uncertainty." 
 
 Judge Berndal pressed his hand in silence, deeply 
 touched by the affection of the tender-hearted, well- 
 meaning old man. 
 
 In the course of a few months the invalids were 
 sufficiently convalescent to restore a spirit of quiet 
 harmony to the household ; the resignation to the in- 
 evitable that comes with time had brought peace, if not 
 forgetfulness. 
 
 Bernhard was gaining strength; but before him was 
 the trial and investigation connected with the duel and 
 the death of Lieutenant von Brieloff. 
 
 His parents trembled for the result. He was sanguine, 
 and trusted the provocation a willful quarrel thrust 
 upon him would greatly tend to moderate any judg- 
 ment brought by a just judge oran honest jury in the case. 
 
 Months passed before Matilda had the heart to open 
 the piano. Judge Berndal and Uncle Thomas were 
 passionately fond of music, and were the first to suggest it. 
 
 But the first notes brought the last happy evening to 
 mind with such keenness that even Uncle Thomas .suc- 
 cumbed to the general sobbing. Oh, he would never 
 hear the voice of his little favorite again, the ringing 
 laughter of his spirited pet, who would soon have been
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 135 
 
 his daughter, whose children would have cheered his 
 declining years! Uncle Thomas was indeed changed; 
 the expressive eloquence of his rude address was toned 
 to suit the invalids, and his profanity was checked by 
 the restraint and guard he placed over his garrulity. 
 Poor fellow! it was a sore trial to overcome the habit; 
 but, in spite of his resolves and watchfulness, habit was 
 the victor at every sentence. 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 IT was a dreary winter evening; the ground was 
 covered with snow, and the flakes were falling in close 
 and irregular disorder, completely filling the air in their 
 noiseless rioting. 
 
 In the gable house the family were collected in the 
 sitting-room, and an unaccountable silence had pre- 
 vailed with the approach of dusk, all seemingly occu- 
 pied with their own impressions while watching the 
 snowy element without. 
 
 Mrs. Berndal at last broke the quiet by saying, "Did 
 it ever occur to you that the human heart is never more 
 inclined to the silence of self-communion than when 
 the snow is falling, as it is now?" 
 
 Bernhard stretched himself, and, with an indolent 
 yawn, replied, with jesting gravity, "True, mother! I 
 believe the presaging soul involuntarily prospects the 
 endless slush to follow; thinks of damp feet, colds, 
 toothaches, flowing noses, etc., etc., and wonders where
 
 136 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 overshoes, rubber boots, and such disagreeable necessi- 
 ties may possibly be." 
 
 "That is not the answer, brother mine," said Matilda: 
 "you should have added something of greater impor- 
 tance to account for a mute tongue. The spirit is prob- 
 ably wandering about the domestic circle deliberating 
 on the quantity of fuel and flannel required to meet the 
 demands of the frost-king." 
 
 "Spoken like a provident housewife, whose soul 
 dabbles in flannel." 
 
 "Spoken like a medicus, whose spirit scents the 
 coming sneeze,". retorted Matilda, laughing. 
 
 Judge Berndal interrupted the playful wrangling : 
 " Mother is right. I have often found myself in sym- 
 pathy with such weather, without ever having accounted 
 for, or been particularly observant of, my own taciturn 
 mood. That we are influenced by the atmospheric 
 silence is evidenced right here : five persons, including 
 two of the talkative sex, and Uncle Thomas, and an 
 unbroken silence has reigned for half an hour ! I 
 shall not endeavor to explain such a phenomenon, but 
 I think the closely-packed air, the obscured horizon, 
 clothing the falling twilight with its dense gray veil, 
 depresses us with a spiritual heaviness, over which the 
 physical nature stands guard for the time being, ob- 
 stinate and unspeaking.'' 
 
 " To me the impression is different from that," said 
 Mrs. Berndal. " I am at times unable to drive away 
 the gnome-like spirit that haunts me my mind is 
 dwarfed by a burden of mystery, suggested by the 
 noiseless warring of the little white flakes. There is 
 something so singularly ghostly in the spreading mantle
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 137 
 
 that covers the earth, trees, rocks, fields, houses; all is 
 cloaked in white; even color is entirely lost; large 
 and small objects lose their form, and the odd trans- 
 formation takes place in such a totally noiseless way 
 that I cannot think of anything but death and winding- 
 sheets." 
 
 " But, Lottie, does not nature accomplish everything 
 in silence? Can you hear the budding of the trees or 
 the unfolding of the blossoms?" 
 
 " No ; but I can see the grass germinate with its 
 beautiful green, the brown bud expand into the gay- 
 colored flower. It is life ! It gives me pleasure, and 
 elevates my spirit ; it neither frightens nor depresses 
 me, any more than do the other manifestations of 
 nature. I can hear the voice of the storm ; I can see 
 it bend the trees, scatter the leaves, and chase the 
 dust; I can see the lightnings flash, hear the thunder 
 roll until the earth quivers and trembles. Is it not 
 life? When the hail rattles and breaks its noisy way 
 to the ground, is it not life ? I can see the rain pour 
 down, the water congeal, the icicles in their pendent 
 beauty glisten and fall clattering against the window- 
 pane. Everything speaks of life and change ; we 
 incline to sociability and companionship. But the 
 mournful stillness of the snow speaks to me of death, 
 the creeping, soundless, untiring, all-devouring monster, 
 death !" 
 
 " Your pardon, my dear lady !" exclaimed Uncle 
 Thomas, ceasing the tattoo on his pedal stump when he 
 noticed that the conversation was taking a gloomy 
 turn; "your pardon, but I don't see anything of the 
 kind ! For my part, I have been so happily constituted 
 
 E* 12*
 
 138 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 that a susceptible imagination or sentimental dreaming 
 does not bother me. I am by nature a very prosaic 
 fellow. My silence was not by reason of any particular 
 spirit's oppression. First, I had nothing very clever 
 
 to say ; secondly, I observed that my dam no, 
 
 my Go oh, the devil ! that damned gout was 
 
 announcing its infer that is, its blessed presence 
 
 in the only decent leg I've got, and I was thinking 
 
 how he heavenly it would be if I could transfer 
 
 the shooting pains into that stick of wood ; how I 
 would nurse it, wrap it in cat-fur, and put it to bed 
 
 with resignation and delight even. But the blast 
 
 blessed stump possesses the most robust health, and is 
 utterly unmindful of its suffering colleague, or is not 
 inclined to relieve it at all, the thankless brute ! 
 Thirdly, I am always charmed with a snow-storm. I 
 revel in anticipation of the glorious snow-balling and 
 snow-tumbling we shall have to-morrow ! And such 
 sleighing as we shall have ! Ah, madam, shall I have the 
 honor of your company to-morrow ? I shall go straight 
 home and see that everything is in order, and I prom- 
 ise the tenderest care and the best behavior. Yes?" 
 
 " But, dear Uncle Thomas, you forget I am still on 
 the invalid list. Although it would give me the great- 
 est pleasure to accept your invitation, knowing from 
 experience what a charming and attentive cavalier you 
 are, your gallantry is beyond question, dear sir, 
 prudence dictates care, and regretfully declines your 
 tempting sleigh-ride.'' 
 
 " Distressing objections that is to say I meant 
 distressing forgetfulness on my part. But never mind, 
 we will make up for it next summer."
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 139 
 
 Everybody laughed, and Uncle Thomas stared 
 amazed at the judge as he asked, 
 
 " What ! go sleighing in summer ?" 
 
 " Certainly/' replied Uncle Thomas, quietly : " it 
 would be an excellent and beneficial trip for the ladies. 
 In LapJand or Greenland we can sleigh-ride to our 
 hearts' content, and have the choice of dogs or reindeer 
 to carry us over the crisp snow." 
 
 The ludicrous suggestion was received with universal 
 merriment. The joke was carried out ; costumes, living, 
 and mode of entertainment were discussed ; and Uncle 
 Thomas had the satisfaction of knowing his well-timed 
 change in the conversation had resulted in a social, 
 pleasant evening, and had also proved that a " winding- 
 sheet of snow" was not necessarily suggestive of dreary 
 silence, death, or soul-depression, if one had a mind to 
 amuse or be amused. 
 
 So the winter passed, and the fatal accident of the 
 previous year could be referred to in the family circle 
 without a keen renewal of the first intolerable horror ; 
 the dear absent member was now spoken of as one be- 
 yond recall ; the violence of grief was quenched by the 
 tempered sorrow for a buried loved one. 
 
 Matilda and her mother, accompanied by Uncle 
 Thomas, were about to depart on an extended tour 
 abroad for a change of climate and scene. 
 
 Judge Berndal and Bernhard remained to await the 
 decision of the court, the father not sharing his son's 
 confident expectations regarding his acquittal. 
 
 The day after Bernhard's mother and sister left home, 
 judgment was passed on all the participants in the un- 
 fortunate duel.
 
 140 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Bernhard was sentenced to ten, and each of the 
 seconds to two, years' close confinement. 
 
 It was a severe and unexpected > sentence. Con- 
 siderable surprise and indignation were expressed ; 
 petitions from influential signers were sent to the 
 sovereign, praying mitigation in Bernhard's case from 
 that high source, but without avail. 
 
 It was a terrible blow to Bernhard, and a sadder one 
 to his father. Ten years taken from the life of his 
 talented boy, whose future was so promising ; his best 
 years and energies mouldering in the walls of a prison ; 
 a useful and profitable existence interrupted and 
 crushed ! Ten years of prison-life is ten years of 
 living death. 
 
 The duel is a wicked, barbarous custom, and should 
 be punished with the extremity of the law. An indi- 
 vidual has no right to rob another of health, limb, or 
 life, and a State is bound to protect its people regard- 
 less of position. So far as the law and statutes are 
 concerned, individuals are equal. 
 
 The judge has no right to hold different opinions, or 
 dispense various judgment, on one and the same sub- 
 ject, offensive to God and condemned by the laws of 
 justice. There certainly must be an unsound condition 
 of society when a state, or its civil head, proclaims pub- 
 licly, " You are my constituency, and my laws recog- 
 nize only equal justice to high or low degree !" while 
 privately the " powers that be" may say with impu- 
 nity, "But you are my best beloved, and if any dare 
 annoy my favorites, take off their heads ! kick the dogs 
 out ! That is the way to protect ourselves ! Main- 
 tain your authority ! preserve and defend your rank !"
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 141 
 
 Lies the honor or the disgrace of an act in the cut 
 or quality of your broadcloth, or in the motives that 
 influence the heart ? 
 
 Can you forbid one man and indulge the other? 
 punish with the extreme power of the law a criminal 
 act in the person of one individual, and lovingly con- 
 trive to hold the palm of the hand over your nose and 
 witness the same deed by another, but through the 
 interstices of the fingers? 
 
 Dueling will remain a blot on any country where 
 the outrageous custom is winked at in any instance. 
 
 Murder is murder, and dueling is premeditated mur- 
 der, an inhuman craving for the blood of another; 
 that is considered "wiping out" insulted honor. Can 
 any well-balanced, reasoning human being believe it 
 possible ? 
 
 The sentence was indeed severe, when Judge Bern- 
 dal and his friends called to mind the case of a noto- 
 rious rake and ruffian, \vearing also the royal epaulets, 
 who had grossly misused the name of an honorable 
 young lady, and, being called to account for it, had shot 
 his opponent through the heart ; he was tried, found 
 guilty, and sentenced to imprisonment for one year ! 
 The public was greatly dissatisfied, because the young 
 officer was universally condemned for his bad character 
 and his utter disregard of decency. 
 
 Blind Justice had hit the wrong game in this in- 
 stance, however. The royal mercy was extended to the 
 "gentle-blooded" youth. The sentence was corrected. 
 The fatherland could not spare the young hero. At 
 the expiration of three months she had her armed 
 champion again, with "sword and pistols by his side,"
 
 142 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 frightening every modest girl he met, and staring even 
 the boldest out of countenance, while marching bravely 
 along the peaceful streets of his country, with still 
 greater importance than formerly. And why should 
 he not feel exalted ? His beloved fatherland had given 
 indisputable evidence of the value of his services, or 
 it would have granted him at least one little year of 
 rest and retirement, if only for the benefit of his moral 
 and religious improvement. However, he was high in 
 the royal favor. So was his sister, a very beautiful 
 woman ! 
 
 Bernhard hoped that Albert would be sent to the 
 same fortress as himself, but that hope was not real- 
 ized. The seconds were assigned to quarters in the 
 city. Bernhard's future prison abode was near the 
 frontier. 
 
 It is the lovely month of May. Spring with her 
 enticing beauties bids humanity forsake the winter 
 gloom of the house and come abroad to enjoy the 
 glorious harmony of nature. 
 
 Come out, come out ! O dormant soul ! The sweet, 
 fresh spring invites thee. Laughing, rippling, dancing, 
 joyous Nature will give thee cheer and sunshine ! 
 
 The heart answers with wild longing. The soul 
 would burst its narrow cell, and fly from its material 
 oppressions away beyond the white cloud-flakes flitting 
 so lightly along the blue sky. 
 
 Slowly the tired h"> ses, drawing: a heavv traveling- 
 
 / O t> O 
 
 coach through the valley road, were urged onward. 
 
 The windows of the coach were open. A voice from 
 within hailed the driver:
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 143 
 
 " How far is it to the city?" 
 
 " One mile, sir ; when we are at the top of the next 
 hill we can see it." 
 
 "Very well, my friend ; I will alight, aud you can 
 precede me to the tavern, and order dinner and a room ; 
 I will follow slowly." 
 
 The driver opened the door for his passenger; 
 then, guiding his team carefully up the hill, he mut- 
 tered, "Queer customer, to hire a coach to ride, aud then 
 walk half the time. Well, me 'n' the nags don't object. 
 He's good treat, anyhow; but in the eight days he's 
 been traveling he's done mighty little gabbing. Must 
 be uneasy in mind. Guess he's unlucky in love. De- 
 ceitful female critter, or something. Well, it's not my 
 funeral." 
 
 Bernhard Berndal paused on the beautiful elevation 
 overlooking valley and town, the prison where he was 
 destined to end this journey. Spreading wide his arms, 
 as if to embrace the whole world, he exclaimed, 
 
 " Oh, thou wonderful, wonderful world ! Air, light, 
 beauty, freedom, all, all will soon be shut out from 
 me ! And oh, life is not life without freedom, and the 
 world is so beautiful ! Ten years caged ! ten long 
 years ! What will I be when those gates are opened 
 after ten years in that gloomy tomb ? A man in the 
 prime of his years, a broken-spirited wretch, with a 
 coffined soul ! Oh, my God ! and the world is so 
 beautiful, and life offers me so much ! 
 
 "Away, miserable thoughts! you drive me to in-* 
 sanity! Am I not a man? Shall I whine and fret? 
 To what end ? I must bear my fate ! My spirit shall 
 not bend or tremble ; my proud heart shall not break !
 
 144 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Alas, poor, weak heart ! it does not break so easily ; 
 do I riot know that well ?" 
 
 As if scornfully casting off the haunting demons, he 
 hastened towards the city with a firm step and pale, 
 determined face. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE following morning, as Bernhard approached 
 the door of the residence of the commander of the for- 
 tress where, according to orders, he had to report him- 
 self under arrest, a lady came out, and he stepped aside 
 to permit her to pass. She hastily pushed back the 
 veil that covered her face, and, extending both hands 
 with a cry of joy, exclaimed, 
 
 " Bernhard ! Doctor Berndal ! to what happy acci- 
 dent am I indebted for the pleasure of seeing you 
 again ?" 
 
 The young man had need of all his self-control to 
 conquer the feeling so suddenly called to life in hear- 
 ing that sweet, ringing, musical voice, the voice he 
 had never expected to hear again on earth, least of all 
 here. It was Augusta standing there, holding his hands 
 and speaking to him. 
 
 "You here, Augusta!" Then, recovering himself, he 
 said, quietly, " I assure you, my dear lady, accident has 
 nothing whatever to do with my presence at this place, 
 at all events, no happy accident." 
 
 "I do not understand you; but, since you seem in- 
 clined to omit 'accident' in the proposition, the happi-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 145 
 
 ness of seeing you remains mine. You were calling on 
 us? Come, and let me take you direct to my husband; 
 he will be charmed to see you again." 
 
 He entered the house, then, turning to her with a 
 bow, he said, "You will excuse me; but I have impor- 
 tant business with the commandant." 
 
 "Step into the parlor; my husband will be down 
 shortly." 
 
 Turning to a servant, she directed him to inform the 
 governor that a visitor had called to see him. 
 
 "Is your husband the governor in command?" 
 
 "Why, yes! Were you not aware of that, and yet 
 came such a long journey to see him on business? 
 True, we have been stationed at this place only a week. 
 Do be seated, doctor; you look ill." 
 
 "I have been ill for a long while; but am quite 
 recovered, however." 
 
 "Why are you so so unlike yourself, Bernhard? 
 Tell me, how are your parents, Matilda, Albert, dear 
 little Martha, and Uncle Thomas? Since my mother's 
 death I hear so seldom from home." 
 
 Before he could reply, the commandant made his 
 appearance, a tall, lean man, with silver-gray hair 
 cropped close, an honest, firm countenance, yet speak- 
 ing benevolence and kindness, mingled with resolution 
 and dignity, his military bearing commanding respect 
 without assumption. The breast of his coat was dec- 
 orated with the iron cross and other honors. 
 
 He advanced to his visitor with friendly greeting, as 
 his face lighted up with pleased recognition. 
 
 "My dear Berndal! glad to see you. This is really 
 an unexpected pleasure." 
 o 18
 
 146 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 " Scarcely unexpected, general, since I am ordered 
 to report to you to-day as your prisoner, under sentence 
 for ten years." 
 
 " For mercy's sake ! Bernhard, what is this you say ?" 
 cried Augusta, while the governor started back in as- 
 tonishment, looking keenly into his guest's face. 
 
 "Madam, I merely state a painful fact." 
 
 "Berndal, this is not a jest?" asked the governor. 
 
 " It is a very serious matter to me," replied Bernhard, 
 with a sorrowful smile. 
 
 "I have no knowledge of it; the order must have 
 been entered before my arrival." He rang a bell and 
 requested the presence of Adjutant Goldmar; then, 
 after walking with rapid strides across the floor several 
 times, he paused suddenly before Bernhard, asking, 
 kindly, "My young friend, for what offense have you 
 been sent here?" 
 
 "I had the misfortune to kill Lieutenant von Brieloff 
 in a duel." 
 
 The governor resumed his walk. Augusta was seated 
 in a corner of the sofa, her face buried in her hands. 
 Adjutant Goldmar entered. 
 
 "Have we an order to receive Dr. Berndal as a 
 state prisoner?" 
 
 "Yes, general; the order arrived three weeks ago. 
 He will occupy the quarters vacated by Lieutenant 
 Engelberg." 
 
 "Thanks, adjutant." 
 
 When the officer had retired, the general turned to 
 Bernhard with a sigh, his face expressing deepest regret, 
 and said, "My dear Berndal, there is no room left for 
 doubt. I am sorry, sorry for you, and also for your
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' XEST. 14" 
 
 estimable parents. This must be a very distressing 
 separation for them. You were a friend, a playmate, 
 of my wife; and later I learned of your worth through 
 other sources. For her sake, and because I am heartily 
 persuaded that you merit our sympathy, we will gladly 
 endeavor to make your confinement as tolerable as may 
 be compatible with my duty as commander here. If you 
 feel disposed to accept our friendship and acquaint us 
 with the unfortunate circumstances that resulted so dis- 
 astrously, you will find that we are sincerely interested 
 in all that can affect the well-being of yourself and your 
 family." 
 
 " Thank you," replied Bernliard, deeply touched by 
 the general's honest avowal of regard. "It is a sad 
 "story, calamities followed one another so rapidly in our 
 once happy family circle. However, I will relate from 
 the beginning, since you have expressed a kindly in- 
 terest in our misfortunes." 
 
 In a brief but comprehensive manner he then related 
 the unhappy events that had succeeded one another with 
 such rapidity, blighting home and heart, and leaving 
 only misery to all concerned. 
 
 His listeners frequently interrupted with exclamations 
 of sympathy. The general was visibly affected. Augusta 
 tearfully turned to the young man, saying, between her 
 sobs, " Poor, poor Martha ! It is so horrible, I cannot 
 realize it! And your dear parents, how they must have 
 suffered ! We read of the mysterious disappearance of 
 a young lady, of a duel, also of the murder of Captain 
 von Kleist; but we did not associate the unhappy oc- 
 currences in the remotest manner with your iimiily. 
 How dreadful ! how dreadful !"
 
 148 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 "Do not despond/' said the general; "unwavering 
 courage, my dear Berndal, daily, hourly, in every dark 
 phase of life, you will require; this last trial must not 
 denude the future of hope or ambition. There is 
 scarcely an instance on record where the extreme sever- 
 ity of a judgment, in a case of this kind, has not met 
 with clemency and the sentence been considerably miti- 
 gated. In a year, or several years, you will be free, no 
 doubt. Still, you have a dangerous enemy in the father 
 of your hapless opponent. I know him well for an 
 unprincipled, vicious person, but, unfortunately, con- 
 nected with influential families, a power around the 
 sovereign. He is immensely wealthy, and since the 
 death of his son the relationship has become intensely 
 solicitous and attentive to the wishes and commands of 
 the old man. However, be hopeful ; I shall investigate 
 the case, and see what can be done." 
 
 Then to his wife he said, "Gussie, our friend dines 
 with us, does he not? After dinner we will escort him 
 to his future quarters." 
 
 The fortress was a massive stone building, standing 
 out from the main-land, and entirely surrounded by 
 water, the two ponderous iron portals connecting with 
 the city by low-hanging draw-bridges. 
 
 Bernhard shuddered involuntarily as he and his 
 companion passed through the gloomy entrance. On 
 all sides his glance rested on martial display, and 
 armed sentries were posted at every turn along the 
 dusky halls. How many an anxious sigh had quivered 
 in the sombre air! What untold longings, ending in 
 impatient, dreadful curses, may not have died away un- 
 heard within these hard, cold wal Is ! And prayers ? Who
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 149 
 
 shall say they have not witnessed the passionate out- 
 pouring of religious supplication, the burning, hopeless 
 eyes relieved by tears? The chill gray walls cannot 
 answer or judge the human heart. 
 
 Bernhard possessed a firm, resolute character ; he had 
 bravely determined to face without shrinking or dread 
 whatever was in store for him. Nevertheless, with 
 every withdrawal of the numerous bolts and grating of 
 keys in their locks a heavy shackle seemed to bind the 
 dreary horror of his situation closely to his heart. 
 
 Another bolt is removed; the turnkey rattles his keys; 
 again comes the rasping, grating sound, and Beruhard 
 stands within his prison-cell. 
 
 Poor heart! he thought he was its master, that he 
 had conquered, so it would bend submissively to him 
 and to fate. Rebelliously it beat as his eyes wandered 
 around his future home. 
 
 A little stove, a wooden stool, a table furnished with 
 an earthen jug containing water, a wash-basin, and an 
 iron bedstead, constituted its furniture. Through a 
 small aperture in the wall, above the reach of the hand, 
 the sun was trying to force a few straggling rays of 
 light between the perpendicular iron bars. 
 
 Bernhard began to realize his fate, to understand that 
 simple little word, ^prisoner. 
 
 Imprisonment. Yes, he comprehended now what it 
 meant, humble the soul, crush the spirit, martyr the 
 heart! In this miserable den, lacking the meanest 
 comforts, he must pass ten years of his life. 
 
 He was not a spoiled child, brought up in the lap of 
 luxury and superfluity, but he was accustomed to every 
 comfort and quiet elegance, in harmony with tastes that 
 
 13*
 
 150 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 neither startle nor disgust. "What he would miss here 
 above all else were the little trifling things mother and 
 home offers, things that were as necessary to him as 
 light and air. Little things! Let no one smile or 
 sneer at little things; it is to them our heart clings 
 and for them our habits call. They make up the sum 
 of comfort, as seconds make the minutes, minutes the 
 hours, hours the days, days the weeks, and so on to the 
 end of the year and of time, when the thread of life 
 breaks. Nature does not work in bounds and jumps. 
 
 Visit the palaces of kings and queens : for awhile 
 you will be astounded by the splendor and magnificence-; 
 but by-and-by you will become restless; you will miss 
 that very something that satisfies, the simplicity of 
 habitual little things, to which the heart turns con- 
 fidentially and with which your nature is familiar. 
 
 You crave change. You wander in foreign lands, 
 behold the beautiful scenes described so vividly by 
 favorite authors, and your senses are seduced for a 
 moment by the brilliant panoramic display. Soon 
 the feeling of complete satisfaction will wear away. 
 A yearning will creep into your heart for a sight of 
 the dear old house, of the window-sill where you can 
 see the blue of your own sky, of the trees, and the 
 garden. Even the twittering of your swallows seems 
 sweeter music to your home-sick heart than all the 
 warbling of other song-birds. Their domestic coats 
 are dearer to your memory than the most resplendent 
 plumage of the tropical trogon. Suddenly the world 
 is too large for you. Oh, if you were only in the 
 arms of that worn old chair, breathing again the at- 
 mosphere of home!
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 151 
 
 Little things constitute the power that makes or 
 mars life. A glance, a touch, is all that can cheer, 
 comfort, or relieve the dying. Little things and little 
 habits are the rulers that govern humanity until we 
 are vanquished by the last little sigh. 
 
 Bernhard was human, like the rest of us ; and at the 
 first glance around his narrow, cheerless premises, he 
 was conscious of the want of many little necessities 
 which habit called for instantly. With a glow of fer- 
 vent gratitude he responded, as if a burden had been 
 taken from his mind, when the kind old general said, 
 "It looks rather uninviting and comfortless just now, 
 Berndal, but you are at liberty to furnish your quarters 
 to suit your taste to the minutest requirement." 
 
 He was not long in availing himself of this permis- 
 sion; and a couple of days later his surroundings pre- 
 sented as pleasing and comfortable an appearance as his 
 situation would admit. 
 
 Altogether, his prison-life proved far more tolerable 
 than he had anticipated. He was at liberty to receive 
 visitors, and was free to visit in return, after going 
 through the form of asking permission; according to 
 the rules. 
 
 At a certain hour in the morning his cell was un- 
 locked, and in the evening, at the regulation moment, 
 the door was bolted and locked again. 
 
 At night an officer of the guard accompanied the 
 turnkey on his rounds, for a last assurance of the pres- 
 ence and welfare of their highly-valued guests. 
 
 Bernhard, having no acquaintance in the city besides 
 the general's family, received no visitors and made no 
 calls. He had no desire to avail himself of the press-
 
 152 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 ing invitations to frequent the friendly commandant's 
 house. The presence of the general's wife was painful 
 to him; he had loved her from earliest boyhood with 
 a passion that had grown with his years; and, wrestle 
 and struggle with it as he would, love still occupied his 
 heart. 
 
 His time was occupied in studying and music. 
 
 Three months passed thus, when he was surprised by 
 a visit from his father and Albert. The seconds in the 
 unhappy duel had been pardoned and released. Uncle 
 Thomas and the ladies were still abroad, and as soon as 
 Albert was free Uncle Thomas commanded his dear 
 nephew to " throw jurisprudence to the dogs" and pre- 
 sent himself directly before him, to gain renewed health 
 and cheerfulness in a salubrious climate and good 
 society. In obedience to this command he joined Judge 
 Berndal in a visit to Bernhard, afterwards continuing 
 his journey to his friends and Uncle Thomas. 
 
 Albert's unexpected release gave great hopes to Bern- 
 hard's parents and friends that he would meet with a 
 proportionate abbreviation of his sentence also. 
 
 When father and son parted again, it was with fond 
 expectations of an early reunion in the home circle. 
 
 Bernhard returned to his dreaming and studies, 
 striving manfully to conquer every tender sentiment 
 that daily bubbled up anew for the love of his life, 
 the wife of his friend. 
 
 Since her marriage she had fulfilled the promise 
 of early womanhood : she had become a magnificent 
 woman under the tender, loving care of her husband. 
 
 The general had been the intimate friend and asso- 
 ciate of her father, who had a large family, and just
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 153 
 
 sufficient income to make a respectable appearance, 
 without being able to provide for a contingent future in 
 the event of his death, which occurred when Augusta, 
 the oldest of his children, was scarcely a woman in 
 years. The last hours of his life were gladdened by 
 the promise of his friend that while he lived the wife 
 and children of the dying man would be provided for. 
 
 A year later he asked Augusta's mother for her 
 daughter's hand in marriage. The answer was favorable. 
 They were married. He was happy and contented with 
 his wife, loved her devotedly. She gave him all her 
 heart had to offer, the love of a daughter for an in- 
 dulgent, kind father, duty, and boundless respect. 
 
 Bernhard loved while he despised her. 
 
 " Oh, why cannot I forget her, tear her treacherous 
 image out of my heart? Did not she forsake me? 
 prove faithless and untrue ?" he cried, bitterly. And yet 
 he could not forget her any more than' he could have 
 forgotten his mother. 
 
 Destiny had again placed him in the magic circle of 
 her presence ; and the love he supposed resting calmly 
 under the power of contempt rose in its might with 
 overmastering poignancy. He must shun her ; avoid 
 every possibility of coming in contact with her. When 
 accident brought them together he assumed a cold, rude 
 manner to disguise his real feeling. 
 
 And Augusta? 
 
 On the day he so suddenly appeared before her, 
 while she was listening to his own sad story and that 
 of the misfortunes of his family, it seemed to her as if 
 she were back among them once more ; the happy group 
 in the sitting-room of the old gable-roofed house were 
 
 G*
 
 154 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 around her with their loving faces, and a wild desire 
 took possession of her to cast herself at his feet with 
 the cry, " Forgive, forgive, Bernhard ! I have not been 
 untrue ! I have ever loved you, I love you, you 
 only !" 
 
 Then the voice, so calm and gentle, of her husband 
 recalled her to the present, and her heart said, " I dare 
 not, I must not love him ; I am a wife, the wife of 
 another." 
 
 Her husband, seeing her distress, walked over to her 
 .side, and, placing his arm fondly around her, as if 
 knowing how she needed his protection, drew her head 
 on his breast and softly stroked her glossy hair, while 
 she buried her burning face in his bosom, saying to 
 herself, " This is my place ; I will not permit a thought 
 of him to come between us, God help me !" 
 
 Are the demons ever entirely conquered ? We battle 
 with our feelings, and to-day we imagine we have gained 
 the victory. To-morrow the siege begins anew ; the 
 victory of yesterday was but a harbinger of the conflict 
 that is renewed daily. Hundreds of battles are fought ; 
 yet one little weakness, one defeat, and we are lost be- 
 yond retrieving. 
 
 Poor woman's heart! Such are the conflicts that 
 rage and pierce, slaughter and perforate, that frail 
 human citadel. 
 
 The temptations are like subtle, deceiving will-o'-the- 
 wisps, glowing in the dusk of inclination with their 
 false flare. We cannot destroy them, they will not 
 die ; so we live and struggle, holding guard over the 
 rebellious elements ; ever armed besiegers ; never, alas ! 
 never victors.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 155 
 
 If one fall, tired and worn, in the perpetual conten- 
 tion, let the untried or untired ones fall on their knees 
 and give thanks to God for their endurance, and while 
 thus engaged let their eyes also be raised, and not seek- 
 ing the ground for the moral stone to throw at the 
 unfortunate one. 
 
 The commandant was very much pleased with Bern- 
 hard, and visited him frequently, urgently pressing him 
 to take more exercise, and playfully rallying him upon 
 his preference for the cell when the society of himself 
 and Augusta was at his command. 
 
 " You are strangely changed, Berndal," he said on 
 one of these occasions. " If I recollect aright, you were 
 formerly very fond of society and company ; and now 
 you seem as contented here in your lonely retirement as 
 a fish in the water." 
 
 Bernhard replied, " I am making up for lost time : 
 when I should have attended to my books I was ever 
 fond of shirking them." 
 
 "Never mind your books now; come home with 
 me and help entertain my wife. She appears homesick 
 and out of spirits. The company of an old friend will 
 cheer her." 
 
 Augusta longed for his presence, and listened for his 
 footsteps with a beating heart; but duty forbade the 
 foolish indulgence. "I must not see him, I dare not 
 love him !" Yet still the obstinate heart had its own 
 way, and willfully said, " But I do love him !" 
 
 She read his heart and his struggles : his cold, distant 
 manner could not deceive her; and while she was 
 wounded by his disdain, she rejoiced in the oppor- 
 tunity it gave her to mask her own feelings by apparent
 
 156 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 displeasure. Deceived by this repellant deportment, 
 Bernhard supposed she had forgotten him, and was 
 happy with her deserving, noble husband. He despised 
 his own weakness, and would have cheerfully destroyed 
 himself piecemeal if he had believed himself capable 
 of disturbing the harmony of the general's life by a 
 dishonorable thought in connection with his wife. 
 
 But in his soul there burned the unquenchable, tor- 
 menting fire of his love. For the right of holding her 
 once more in his arms, for the exquisite privilege of 
 pressing his lips to hers and uttering the words that 
 occupied all his waking and sleeping thoughts, " I love 
 you, I love you still !" he would have laid do\vn his 
 life. 
 
 Through every imaginable excuse, he sometimes es- 
 caped the good commandant's importunities, and thus 
 saved himself and, without suspecting it, Augusta the 
 distress of meeting, and a renewed contest with right 
 and duty. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AUTUMN came, and with it arrived the delight of a 
 visit from Mrs. Berndal, Matilda, and Uncle Thomas. 
 To say that the meeting between the prisoner and his 
 loved ones was not exciting, would be to overlook the 
 kissing and embracing and laughing through tearful 
 eyes ; exclamations of wonder from his mother, who 
 expected to greet her son goodness only knows how
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 157 
 
 deep down in the " slough of despond." She had 
 imagined her boy in anything but the comfortable 
 situation in which she found him. A picture of his 
 pale, starved face, as he rose out of some dark dungeon 
 from a pile of damp straw, perhaps with a chain on his 
 feet, his hands manacled, had haunted her for weeks. 
 Her knees trembled, her limbs nearly failed to support 
 her, as she entered the gloomy portals of the building. 
 
 Infinitely relieved, she again and again embraced 
 him. "You look quite comfortable," she cried; "and 
 if that little square of light up there only had a nice 
 
 white curtain instead of those rusty old bars " 
 
 Still, she sighed contentedly. 
 
 Uncle Thomas's bad habits had him again in their 
 clutches; he swore harder than ever, and declared that 
 the fact of his having been such a martyr to the gout 
 last winter was entirely ascribable to his remarkably 
 good behavior and total abstinence from profanity. 
 
 "I suffered untold martyrdom in the cause of your 
 delicate nerves," he assured them repeatedly. 
 
 "Albert is going to stay in Paris," grumbled the old 
 man to Bernhard. "Les maudits crapauds! Still, the 
 young scamp is right. Paris is the place to live, and 
 people there understand how to make the most of life." 
 
 Matilda and her mother were astonished at all they 
 saw and heard. To them it was incomprehensible that 
 the poor prisoners in close confinement, or permitted 
 exercise only under surveillance, could laugh and joke 
 as if it were not of the least importance to them how 
 their lives were passed. 
 
 A splendid-looking young man in the procession of 
 prisoners marching through their daily exercise attracted 
 
 14
 
 158 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Matilda's attention in particular. In passing them he 
 took from between his lips a rose, and, dashing it to 
 the pavement, crushed it under his heel, muttering, 
 "Thus everything lovely should be ground out of ex- 
 istence !" 
 
 A rough motion from one of the guards called the 
 bold fellow to order; but Bernhard, who was familiar 
 with his history, said, " Poor soul ! he is mad, and should 
 be in an asylum for the insane. 
 
 "He belongs to a good family; he was engaged to 
 be married to a young lady whom he dearly loved, but 
 discovered that she was carrying on an intrigue with 
 another; he watched and followed her, and while she 
 was in the arms of her secret lover, he killed them 
 both, and quietly gave himself up to be hung or shot, 
 as he hoped. 
 
 "Through the intercession of his friends, however, 
 he was condemned to imprisonment for life, instead 
 of being granted the boon of death. 
 
 "He keeps away from every one, and occupies his 
 time in carving ornaments out of wood and selling 
 them for money wherewith to purchase roses. He has 
 a passion for this flower, possibly because the young 
 lady's name was Rose; and I believe he would become 
 wild if he could not obtain at any price a fresh rose 
 every day, simply for the purpose of using it as you 
 have observed, crushing it. Death would be a mercy 
 to him." 
 
 Bernhard accompanied his friends to the house of the 
 general, where another happy meeting took place. The 
 singular coldness between Bernhard and his hostess did 
 not escape their observation. His mother watched them
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 159 
 
 with anxiety in silence. Uncle Thomas and Matilda, 
 at the first opportunity, began to tease them, and in- 
 quire the cause of the estrangement between two who 
 had formerly been such devoted friends. Naturally, 
 this only created a greater display of hostility. 
 
 The second day after their arrival, Matilda begged 
 their hostess to give them some music. 
 
 "Some of the old songs. You recollect that charm- 
 ing duet you and Bernhard used to sing ? Come, brother, 
 let us have that!" exclaimed Matilda. 
 
 " You must really excuse me ; I cannot sing." 
 
 "Hear him, Augusta: he has forgotten how to sing! 
 Try the magic of your pleading, dear, and see if it 
 will not work as in former days, when one word from 
 you tamed the obstinate lion and he became yielding as 
 a kitten." 
 
 "The doctor's memory being defective, the old charm 
 is doubtless lost with it. Words of mine would be vain 
 also." 
 
 " You mistake, madam ; one word is sufficient. Tell 
 me to sing, and I obey." 
 
 "I have no desire to make a request that might carry 
 in its embodiment an infliction for Dr. Berndal." 
 
 Bernhard bowed gravely, and reseated himself on 
 the sofa beside his mother. 
 
 "Oh, charming! delightful!" cried Matilda, clapping 
 her hands merrily. "A lovers' quarrel without the 
 lovers !" 
 
 "Matilda!" admonished her mother; but, unheeding, 
 she continued: " Children, have you been naughty? are 
 you pouting? Let me restore peace and good will. It 
 does not become people who have been faithful as the
 
 160 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 real inseparables from earliest childhood to sulk and 
 quarrel in their old age, like like " 
 
 " Turtle-doves !" interposed Uncle Thomas. 
 
 "I am sure I have no cause to pout at the doctor/' 
 Augusta replied, shortly. 
 
 "I am greatly relieved to hear it. I should be dread- 
 fully sorry to learn that my brother with the dubious 
 face had occasioned you pain. Shall I tell you how 
 you look at this moment? Just as you did one even- 
 ing while we were still in the glory of short clothes. 
 You remember it was at one of our merry-makings? 
 You deserted the circle, and, standing isolated in one 
 corner of the room, with a grieved voice cried, 'Bern- 
 hard kissed Lina!' " 
 
 Matilda distorted her face so ruefully, and imitated 
 the sobbing of a child with such ludicrous perfection, 
 that every one laughed. 
 
 Augusta flushed with embarrassment, and replied, in 
 confusion, "I have no recollection of it!" 
 
 Bernhard turned pale, and sternly reminded his sister 
 that "such silly references were undignified and out of 
 place. That was children's play; nonsense!" 
 
 " Not a bit of it !" exclaimed Uncle Thomas. " Take 
 the word of an honest man, general, it was a serious 
 affair. The little lady's protest made such an impres- 
 sion that the rogue never ventured to kiss Lina again. 
 It was an understood matter that he was her private 
 property, infringements not permitted !" 
 
 "Uncle Thomas, how can you utter such absurd- 
 ities?" 
 
 "My dear madam, facts, absolute facts; and, general, 
 the devoted youth would follow her about, and stand
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. IQl 
 
 for hours on the watch. When she happened to be 
 making a call or to be taking music- lessons at the 
 teacher's house, his humble adoration was rewarded 
 by a smile or bow, and perhaps his tireless vigil re- 
 quited by condescending permission to accompany her 
 home." 
 
 "How can you say such things about Bernhard, 
 Uncle Thomas? It wasn't him at all : it was Albert!" 
 exclaimed Augusta. 
 
 "A thousand pardons, madam! You do the absent 
 gentleman too much honor. Your memory is a little 
 bit treacherous, dear lady. Poor Albert used to stand 
 in the background a hundred paces, scowling danger- 
 ously at his more fortunate brother from his post of 
 observation behind that old linden-tree in front of the 
 apothecary's shop." 
 
 Augusta was forced to join the general merriment at 
 her expense ; the old gentleman's pointed joke was 
 irresistible. 
 
 Her husband glanced affectionately at her, and laugh- 
 ingly said, " Gussie ! Gussie ! this is a sad report for 
 my old ears, Bernhard, broken-heart JS"o. 1 ; Albert, 
 broken-heart No. 2. Still, if I have as little reason 
 to cultivate a savage jealousy in connection with for- 
 saken No. 2 as the devotion of No. 1 occasions me, 
 my blessed peace of mind will remain undisturbed." 
 
 Sitting in his cell that night, Bernhard gave himself 
 to the recollections of the past. Well he remembered 
 the incident when Augusta, a pretty little girl in a short 
 frock, went pouting into a corner because he had been 
 condemned to pay court as a forfeit to another girl. 
 He had loved her with an unswerving devotion from 
 
 14*
 
 162 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 that hour, and his heart bounded joyfully as he recalled 
 her preference for him even at that age. 
 
 One evening, a few years later, when they were at a 
 picnic together, and became separated from the party, 
 wandering arm-in-arm along the greensward, he stooped 
 and gathered a handful of clover, picking from among 
 the number a four-leaved one, and began telling his 
 fortune. " She loves- she loves me not she loves me 
 dearly," he said. Looking into her face, he asked, 
 
 " Does she, Gussie?" 
 
 " The oracle has told you," she replied, softly. 
 
 " And what do you say ?" 
 
 " If you do not trust to its answer the first time, ask 
 again," she said, without looking at him, but he felt her 
 hand tremble on his arm ; or was it the singular pulsa- 
 tion of his heart that made him quiver, sending a thrill 
 of happiness through his whole being ? No, her hand 
 trembled as she also took a clover, saying, " I'm going 
 to tell my fortune now. He loves he loves me not 
 he loves me " 
 
 As she was about to complete the sentence, the leaf 
 fell from the stem, and was carried away by the wind. 
 
 " Oh, dear," she cried, " there you go !" 
 
 " Gussie, darling, is it indeed me you love ?" he had 
 exclaimed, with delight. And when he would have taken 
 her hand to press it to his lips, she had withdrawn it 
 gently, and asked him who his oracle was. 
 
 " You, Gussie ; you are the only one in all the world 
 that can mould my future and give me happiness, for I 
 love you, love you dearly. I would rather die than 
 know I should have to live without you, though I 
 owned all else earth could offer."
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 163 
 
 Then voices of disinterested parties had broken the 
 charm for that day ; but for a week he had lived like 
 one in ethereal bliss, until another opportunity gave 
 him a moment with her. He had clasped her in his 
 arms, and asked, in trembling ecstasy, 
 
 " You are mine, my birdie, my wife ?" 
 
 " Sit here beside me, Bernhard," she had said. " I 
 am going to talk sensibly ; I have been so happy since 
 our last interview together ! I do nothing but think 
 and dream of Bernhard." 
 
 He remembered well how near he came to crushing 
 the delicate little hand resting in his own, while he ex- 
 pressed his exuberant joy at this confession. "Nothing, 
 nothing shall part us !" 
 
 " Nothing ; no power on earth !" she had said, look- 
 ing him full in the eyes with her beautiful clear gaze. 
 " But we mast part of our own will for the present." 
 
 " Impossible, Gussie ! You do not know what you 
 say !" 
 
 " I do, Bernhard ; and to a man everything should be 
 possible that sense and right tell him is necessary." 
 
 " But why necessary ?" 
 
 " Because we are both so young ; you have not com- 
 pleted your education, and I am still under the care of 
 teachers. What would our parents say ? What would 
 people say ?" 
 
 " Let them say what they will ; I can brave their 
 opinion." 
 
 " So can I, Bernhard, but I will not. I promise to 
 wait for and love you, and you alone, but I do not de- 
 sire that any one shall know of our engagement until 
 you are in a condition to appear before your parents
 
 164 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 and mine and say, ' Augusta has promised to be my 
 wife : as I am able to provide and care for her, I trust 
 you are favorable to the contract,' " 
 
 "Augusta, you are cold and proud." 
 
 " Proud, I acknowledge, but only where it concerns 
 you, whom I love so dearly. You see, Bernhard, girls 
 as young as I am often marry, but a young man in 
 your circumstances should not subject himself to the 
 ridicule of his companions and the world. I will not 
 have it ! and you shall not be an object of sport because 
 you are engaged to be married before you are out of 
 school. You know they will laugh at you." 
 
 " You are right, Gussie : it is perhaps better to keep 
 our engagement secret. I could not endure to be laughed 
 at like a boy when I feel that I am a man." 
 
 " Then you promise, dear Bernhard ?" 
 
 " I promise ; but why renounce our happiness, the 
 enjoyment of each other's society? why part?" 
 
 " What a question for you to ask me ! Bernhard, 
 would it be right or proper for you and me to have 
 secret interviews or deceive our parents ? I hope you 
 will be content with the knowledge that I love you, 
 and will wait for you until the time arrives that we can 
 be openly betrothed with the sanction of our families. 
 Will you promise to abide by this ?" 
 
 " I will !" he replied, solemnly. 
 
 Then she had put her arms around his neck, and 
 pressed her lips to his, passionately exclaiming, "Dear, 
 dear Bernhard, now I am happy ! Let this be our 
 parting kiss, until until " Then, releasing her- 
 self from his clasp, she ran away, leaving the sentence 
 for him to finish.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 165 
 
 On his first visit home from the university, it was a 
 sore trial to hear his mother and his friends sing the 
 praises of his darling and be forced to keep silence, 
 while his whole soul was filled with the thought, "She 
 is mine; the beautiful, lovely girl will be my wife 
 some day." 
 
 It was a proud, happy time for him. Then the end 
 came. She came to his home one day, and was so sor- 
 rowful, and looked at him with such mournful tender- 
 ness, that he had ventured to take her hand a moment 
 and ask her if he had grieved her. She had wept bit- 
 terly, saying, " Bernhard ! oh, dear Bernhard ! I cannot 
 tell you now ; but you shall know all soon !" 
 
 His eyes refused their rest that long, troubled night, 
 and the next report from her was her severe illness, and 
 her engagement to another. 
 
 The shameless coquette ! That explained her pru- 
 dery ; that was why their love must remain secret. 
 Oh, God ! will he ever be able to forget the madden- 
 ing, surging emotions that swept with their tormenting, 
 destroying billows over his hopes ? 
 
 Ah, his watchful, tender mother saved him from self- 
 destruction. Sweet, gentle mother-heart, God bless its 
 wordless sympathy ! 
 
 How he scorned himself for his weakness ! The girl 
 had made a toy of him ; had laughed, perhaps, in secret 
 at his silly worship ; had thrown him aside when a 
 better offer presented itself. She had been tempted by 
 the glitter of an old man's dollars; had turned dis- 
 dainfully from the simplicity of his honest love to 
 play with decorative honors. 
 
 He had met her once after her recovery, and this
 
 166 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 scornful opinion he had cast in her face. He would 
 not listen to the explanation she so earnestly- pleaded 
 with him to hear. He had even assured her that she 
 might be at rest, that her little nonsense with the foolish 
 boy would be buried with him. " I shall keep our 
 love secret !" He had quoted her words with scornful 
 emphasis. What good were her tears, her sad face? 
 Did they make her less false ? 
 
 Bernhard, sitting a lonely prisoner, recalled all this, 
 and to-night he said to himself, " I was brutal ; I 
 should have listened to her explanation. There may 
 have been powerful influences, irresistible reasons bear- 
 ing on her marriage, and I turned from her with the 
 hot temper of a boy." 
 
 Let us take the reader back a few years in the life of 
 Augusta, and see what influenced her to become faith- 
 less to her love. 
 
 She was the oldest of a family of six children. When 
 her father died he left them absolutely without mainte- 
 nance. His income had been sufficiently large; but 
 her mother, indifferent to the future, and being accus- 
 tomed to lavish display and having every desire gratified, 
 did not take into consideration the increase of expendi- 
 ture with the increase and growth of her family, and 
 sometimes indulged her extravagant notions of living 
 even beyond their income. Thus, when her husband 
 died, their revenue was exhausted. 
 
 The general had promised to care for his friend's wife 
 and children, and frequently availed himself of a guar- 
 dian's privilege to visit them and see after their welfare. 
 He interested himself particularly in the studies of the 
 amiable and dutiful Augusta, and she looked up to him
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 167 
 
 and confided in him like a daughter. It was not sin- 
 gular that he should mistake her affectionate regard, 
 and build castles wherein the sweet girl ruled his tender 
 heart and silvery locks. 
 
 The worldly-inclined mother strengthened his hopes, 
 as only such mothers know how, looking forward to a 
 continuation of her former brilliant life and a shining 
 future for her daughter if this man became her son-in- 
 law. 
 
 And on this she was determined. No manoeuvring 
 was spared, no stratagem left untried, to bring about 
 the state of mind necessary to broach the subject to her 
 daughter with favorable results. Since the death of 
 her husband she had become an invalid, and Augusta 
 scarcely ever left her, but would sit beside the sofa or 
 couch where her mother reclined, and read to her, or 
 with employed hands amuse and entertain her. 
 
 Seated beside the invalid as usual one afternoon, 
 the latter said, with sudden animation, "Gussie, have 
 you heard about Ada Winter's engagement? She has 
 done well for herself with her ugly, dark little mulatto 
 face!" 
 
 " I had not heard of it. Who is the fortunate man ?" 
 
 "I do not conceive wherein his good fortune lies. 
 She has managed to catch that rich banker's son, that 
 handsome Schabel. He could have done better. I 
 cannot imagine what he found winning about her." 
 
 " She is not pretty, true, but she is " 
 
 "Stupid!" 
 
 "Oh, no! I had no idea of saying that. She is 
 really a sensible, kind-hearted girl, and I am quite sure 
 she will make young Mr. Schabel happy."
 
 168 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 "I think I have a greater surprise in store for our 
 friends when they hear of the splendid match my pretty 
 Gussie will make." 
 
 The young girl blushed and bowed her face over her 
 sewing, yet feeling instinctively the hidden significance 
 in her mother's flattering address, portentous for herself, 
 as she replied, 
 
 "That surprise is not overwhelmingly near; they 
 will have time to recover from their dismay occasioned 
 by Ada Winter's good fortune, at all events." 
 
 "Who knows?" continued the other lady, impress- 
 ively. "You sly puss! why do you look so confused? 
 Has the gentleman anticipated me?" 
 
 "What gentleman?" exclaimed Augusta, now thor- 
 oughly alarmed and startled. 
 
 "A man, my dear child, entirely \vorthy of a dutiful, 
 considerate daughter; a gentleman possessing wealth, 
 honor, and position, an agreeable presence and a mag- 
 nanimous heart. Such a suitor wishes to rob me of 
 my sweet daughter. What does she say?" 
 
 The sweet daughter said, curtly, "I will not have 
 him ! I do not wish to be married !" 
 
 "That is what we all say, my dear; but when the 
 question comes direct, we very sensibly say Yes." 
 
 "Then pray spare this man the humiliation of meet- 
 ing with an exception, for I shall certainly say No!" 
 
 " You will consider, dear heart, before making such 
 a reply." 
 
 "Do not jest with me, dear mother; the subject is 
 disagreeable." 
 
 "Augusta, I am not jesting; the suitor has asked my 
 consent. He is anxiously awaiting your confirmation,
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 for I thankfully assented. I cannot tell you the 
 utter relief and peace I have enjoyed since our future 
 is so promising and free from care, yours in particu- 
 lar. Why do you not ask who this generous wooer 
 may be?" 
 
 "I do not wish to know. I will not be tormented." 
 
 Augusta rose, and would have left the room, but a 
 stern command from her mother changed her purpose. 
 
 "Remain here, miss!" 
 
 "Oh, mother " 
 
 "Listen. The general has asked me for your hand 
 in marriage. I am already under extreme obligations 
 to him. Your father in dying soothed his last hours 
 with the hope that the noble heart of his friend would 
 turn to you and find in your love and gratitude his 
 reward for his devoted friendship. I promised the 
 general a favorable reply." 
 
 "But I do not love him; only only as I could feel 
 towards a father." 
 
 "Stupid girl! Love comes after marriage. What 
 do girls know about love? They have only to study 
 the wishes of their parents, who are the best judges of 
 what is suitable and desirable for their children. Love! 
 Fiddle-sticks! You will marry the general; that is 
 settled." 
 
 Augusta knelt at her mother's feet, crying and plead- 
 ing, "You make me wretched for life!" But, visitors 
 being announced, she hastily left the room. 
 
 It was that day she went to Judge Berndal's house, 
 ostensibly to communicate with Bernhard, and found 
 herself unable to tell him her distress. 
 
 When she returned, her mother said, "The general 
 H 15
 
 170 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 has been here; he will call to-morrow for your definite 
 answer. What will it be?" 
 
 "That I do not love him; that I cannot be his 
 wife!" 
 
 "And you have the heartlessness to make your mother 
 appear contemptible!" The heretofore-suppressed pas- 
 sion now vented itself mercilessly on the poor girl. 
 " You undutiful, wicked girl ! Do you think you can 
 carry your obstinate self-will to the extent of dragging 
 us all with you into disgrace and poverty? Then take 
 my curse, and the hatred of your little sisters and 
 brothers, whose future you destroy! and may you find 
 your just punishment in your own and our outcast, 
 degra'ded condition! No, you shall not! I will bend 
 your spirit, even if it breaks your heart!" 
 
 Never before had the wretched girl witnessed such a 
 terrible outburst of temper. She put her arms around 
 her mother's knees, and begged and sobbed for pardon, 
 for pity. The woman suddenly ceased her angry tirade, 
 and, taking her child in her arms, said, with tears stream- 
 ing from her eyes, 
 
 " Forgive your mother, my child. I did not know 
 what I was saying. Come, let us all go out into the 
 world together ; we have no home, but we can die ; we 
 will cling together in poverty and distress. Oh, my 
 poor children ! come, let us go to the river and end this 
 unhappy existence. My poor Augusta, you will forget 
 your mother's unkind wrath ?" 
 
 " For God's sake, mother, why are you so distressed ? 
 What has the general to do with our poverty and 
 home?" 
 
 The mother seemed to hesitate, then she said, " I
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 171 
 
 will tell you all ; then we will go out homeless into the 
 pitying world, but my daughter will still love me." 
 
 Touched by the abnegation and the display of love 
 for her, Augusta listened while her mother gathered 
 facts and falsehoods, forming a very depressing picture 
 of destitution, with the saving graciousuess of the gen- 
 eral in the background. 
 
 " But, dear mother, I am sure he will still befriend 
 us until we can do something for ourselves. I will 
 work, and we can give up our extravagant mode of 
 living. Let me speak to him." 
 
 " Not for the world ! He made me promise that I , 
 would not let you into the secret of our obligations to 
 him. Oh, do not humble me, my daughter !" 
 
 Another scene of dissembling and weeping, and the 
 motherly performance had the desired result. Augusta 
 promised everything, anything; and in the midst of 
 her mother's blessings and caresses she quietly fainted. 
 For weeks her overtasked brain and suffering heart suc- 
 cumbed to the sacrifice. 
 
 But the mother's ambition was satisfied. 
 
 If she suspected the cause of her daughter's repug- 
 nance to this marriage, she passed it over in silence, but 
 watched with the utmost care over her delicate heart's 
 darling, to prevent a possible disclosure of the true 
 state of her heart to the unsuspecting bridegroom, 
 knowing well that in that case her plans would be 
 unsettled, since the honest, upright old general would 
 have no lunwilling wife, or for one moment hold the 
 young lady to an engagement made against her will.
 
 172 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OVER two years of Bernhard's imprisonment had 
 expired, and there was no more probability of his par- 
 don than there had been the first months. The sov- 
 ereign powers were obdurate. The decree had been 
 spoken, and not an hour should be taken from its 
 fulfillment. 
 
 Uncle Thomas was frantic. That the revengeful 
 Von Brieloff was at the bottom of this unusual inflex- 
 ible severity he did not doubt. Bernhard was not 
 suffering the penalty of having killed the son, but to 
 gratify the father's hatred of Uncle Thomas. At last 
 the unhappy old man conquered his own feelings of 
 abhorrence sufficiently to make an endeavor to propi- 
 tiate his enemy, and, without saying aught of his inten- 
 tions to any one, gathered up certain documents and 
 presented himself before Von Brieloff. 
 
 " Your pardon, comrade of my youth !" the latter 
 cried, when his guest was ushered into his private apart- 
 ment, where he reclined on an invalid's chair, so utterly 
 changed from the healthy, robust man he had seemed 
 when Uncle Thomas met him last, that only the glit- 
 tering eyes, with their demoniac expression, were recog- 
 nizable. "Your pardon, that I am unable to meet 
 you as becomes such a rare guest. Indeed, an honor. 
 Pray be seated. How can I serve you ?" 
 
 Uncle Thomas seated himself near the man. His
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 173 
 
 polite address was not in keeping with the disdainful 
 triumph which lit up his emaciated face: nevertheless 
 Uncle Thomas quietly said, 
 
 " Sir, I am astonished to find you so changed, and 
 regret your illness. But you are aware that friendly 
 intercourse between us is out of the question. I came 
 to express my " 
 
 " That is not so, friend Thomas ! I know why you 
 are here. In fact, I have been expecting you. Ex- 
 pressions of sympathy for the murder of my son ? No ; 
 you came to plead for the murderer. I am fully pre- 
 pared to answer : no mercy for anything or any one in 
 whose welfare you, Mr. Thomas, have an interest." 
 
 "You will reconsider " 
 
 " I will reconsider nothing ! One thing I wish to 
 impress on you : your favorite young friend suffers for 
 your sake, your sake alone. True, my son lost his 
 life at his hands, but it was in honorable combat, and 
 that Berndal escaped the fate himself was not the fault 
 of my son ; consequently, if it were not for my consid- 
 eration for you, old friend, I would cheerfully forgive 
 him. I can strike you through him. It gives me such 
 joy to tell you this that the tortures of hell will be tol- 
 erable in comparison ! If you have a disposition to use 
 the papers in your possession to create a scandal, it will 
 not affect me down there ! I am well aware my days 
 are numbered. Apropos, dear friend, what a lovely, 
 simple creature Eva was! She was, without excep- 
 tion, the sweetest little fool I ever embraced. If it had 
 not been for me, I expect she would have been con- 
 demned to a long life as the wife of some sentimental 
 plebeian."
 
 174 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 " You are a vile dog !" cried Uncle Thomas, beside 
 himself with rage and indignation. 
 
 " One more word, if you please, Mr. Thomas. Do 
 you not think it was an excessively foolish trick in 
 you to buy up those forged notes of mine and never 
 make the slightest use of them against me? Very silly 
 very silly indeed ! You lose your money, and my 
 delighted heirs reap the benefit/' 
 
 Uncle Thomas could endure it no longer. His face 
 grew flaming, his blood boiled. He conquered him- 
 self, repressing a fearful oath with a mighty effort. 
 He said, " Your infirmities make you bold ; but "not 
 alone to your present bodily defects do you owe your 
 worthless life. The earth would not have been large 
 enough to contain us living if I had not promised her 
 whose memory you would degrade. She, with her last 
 breath, prayed me to spare you, and for her sake you 
 have been left unmolested and undisgraced. I came 
 with the intention of leaving these documents. They 
 hold your character and prove your worthlessness. I 
 will not alter my determination in regard to their dis- 
 posal. Take them. She would not have me use them 
 against you !" Uncle Thomas dashed them on the 
 floor at his feet and left him. 
 
 Von Brieloff rang the bell for his servant, and 
 ordered him to give him the papers and roll his chair 
 to the fireplace. 
 
 He read them through carefully, and then destroyed 
 them, exclaiming, " The hot-headed old fool ! he could 
 have changed my plans materially with such a power 
 in his hands." 
 
 He thereupon added a codicil to his will, reserving
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 175 
 
 certain estates, and stipulating that for every year of 
 mercy granted Bernhard Berndal fifty thousand dollars 
 should be taken from the inheritance and should go to 
 the reserve estates, which were to be given to another 
 branch of the family after a term of years, at the 
 expiration of Berndal's sentence. 
 
 Uncle Thomas returned home in a pitiable state of 
 mind, and, as usual, sought peace and consolation by 
 walking over to Judge Berndal's. 
 
 There he found the family in commotion, Mrs. 
 Berndal in tears, and the judge indignant. 
 
 "Think of it, dear friend, our Bernhard has escaped! 
 What a disgrace ! Now he will be hunted like a con- 
 vict, and be afraid to appear on the face of the earth," 
 sobbed Mrs. Berndal. 
 
 " Hurrah ! Thank the Lord ! May the devil get 
 me if this is not glorious news !" exclaimed Uncle 
 Thomas. " I am so glad I've got to sit down ; the joy 
 has struck into my wooden peg : it is trembling ; but 
 can it be for fear they will catch him ? Bless me ! I 
 wonder where he is ?" 
 
 The authorities also wondered, and searched, and 
 offered tempting rewards, but the bird had flown as 
 if with veritable wings. The officer and turnkey had 
 locked him in his cell as usual, but he was not there in 
 the morning. It was unaccountable how the escape 
 was managed, Bernhard having refused to leave his 
 quarters for days previous, and having complained 
 of feeling indisposed. 
 
 Search and reward were alike ineffectual to trace the 
 fugitive's hiding-place, and the hostile Von Brieloff was 
 so enraged and disappointed that he died with a severe
 
 176 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 stroke of apoplexy, leaving his heir cursing his memory 
 and the codicil to his will. 
 
 Bernhard was sitting alone with Augusta. The gen- 
 eral had persuaded him to accompany him home, and 
 was shortly after called out on business, leaving the two 
 friends gazing sorrowfully after his retreating form. 
 
 Bernhard had just informed her of his father's fruit- 
 less last appeal in his behalf, and she could only respond 
 by looking the regret and sympathy she felt. 
 
 A long silence was at last broken by Augusta ask- 
 ing, " What are you studying about so intently, Bern- 
 hard?" 
 
 " Freedom, flight, and a fable." 
 
 Augusta looked at him, startled and indignant. 
 
 " But," he continued, " I cannot give my attention to 
 the first until I have some interpretation of the last. I 
 am puzzled and troubled day and night." 
 
 " Tell me the fable." 
 
 " I will ; perhaps you can explain it. Once upon a 
 time there was a shepherd and his wife ; they had an 
 only child, a boy, whom they loved dearly. In the 
 country where they lived there still existed fairies, and 
 the mother said, ' When our good fairy comes again I 
 will ask her to wish my boy a happy life.' 
 
 " It was just as the evening shadows began to fall ; 
 the sun was sinking in fiery splendor, when from a 
 beautiful rainbow arching the firmament the fairy 
 suddenly stepped before the astonished parents. 'Call 
 your child, that I may see his face.'
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 177 
 
 " The father went to the pasture where the boy was 
 guarding the lambs, and brought him to the fairy, 
 who smoothed his curly hair with her snowy hand, and 
 said, 
 
 " ' Thine eyes are bright ; soon comes the night. 
 
 What thou shalt lose is thine yet through pain ; 
 
 "What thou shalt win will vanish again. 
 Dark clouds are around, little sunshine about ; 
 "Where joy comes in, there hope goes out.' 
 
 "The frightened mother wept, and cried, 'Oh, my 
 child will never be happy !' 
 
 " But the boy ran back to the pasture, to the little 
 maiden who was guarding the lambs with him, and told 
 her about the wondrous beauty of the strange woman, 
 her glittering, marvelous face, and lovely eyes ; ( but 
 yours are prettier,' he said to her. 
 
 " They grew in love to one another, and were happy. 
 One day they were sitting thus, guarding their flock, 
 when the boy pressed the girl to his heart, and said, ' I 
 love you.' And she pressed her sweet, rosy lips in con- 
 fidence and trust to his, saying, ' I love you also, with 
 all my heart, and will be your true wife some day; but 
 in the mean time let us keep the secret of our love, for 
 the wicked people of earth will destroy it.' 
 
 "So they remained true, and still were happy; at 
 least the boy was so." 
 
 Bernhard paused, and Augusta, sighing deeply, as if 
 just awakened, asked, " Is the fable ended?" 
 
 " Not quite. The wicked people of earth discovered 
 the peaceful state of their hearts, and were envious, and 
 said, ' What right have they to be happy ? Why shall 
 they be permitted to enjoy the pleasures of love, of
 
 178 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 which we know nothing?' The king and his retinue 
 happened to pass through the village, and one of the 
 high-born attendants saw the beautiful maiden, and 
 said in his heart, ' She will grace my life and home ; 
 I will have her for my wife.' 
 
 " The maiden forgot her vows, for the spell created 
 by the wicked earth-people deluded and infatuated her 
 senses, and filled her heart with pride and vanity. 
 She said, { I will not be a shepherd's wife ; I will be 
 a grand lady, and will shine in the society of kings 
 and queens.' 
 
 "She followed the fortunes of her rich spouse far 
 away into another land, and lived in state and honor. 
 
 " But the fairy's words were coming true : the boy's 
 eyes were bright no longer ; they were dim with weep- 
 ing, and the night of despair had overshadowed his 
 heart. What he had won was lost, had vanished 
 forever !" 
 
 Augusta covered her face with her trembling hands 
 and bowed her head; a sigh of anguish escaped her lips. 
 
 Bernhard continued : " His soul was dark with angry 
 thoughts and bitter denunciations. He said he would 
 tear her memory from his heart with contempt and 
 scorn ! He wandered from home, so that none might 
 see his sorrow, disguising it with assumed harshness 
 towards all, that he might not be forced to cry aloud, 
 like a grieved woman, ' I have lost my love !' Go 
 where he would, and try with all his might, he could 
 not tear her image out of his heart. 
 
 " One day he met an enemy and slew him in a con- 
 flict, and he was dragged to prison, and the governor 
 of that prison was the husband of his love. And when
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 179 
 
 she saw him she said to her husband, ' That is the 
 friend of my youth ; for my sake have mercy on him, 
 and show him consideration, that his prison-life may 
 be less severe. Remove his chains for my sake/ 
 
 " Her request was granted. They were kind to him, 
 more kind than he can bear, for the heaviest chains are 
 light in comparison with the burdensome sorrow of his 
 life, and of the old, old memories that will not die. 
 
 " His scorn was undeserved by her. She is good and 
 happy, and he said, ' Before I leave I will tell her, and 
 ask her to forgive me for the heartless way she was 
 repulsed when she pleaded so tearfully for a hearing 
 in those cruel days before she was wedded.' 
 
 " Not long ago he dreamed the old fairy came to his 
 bedside. ' The king is obdurate/ she said : ' he will not 
 pardon ; yet you must win what you have lost.' And 
 he said, ' If I had a thousand lives, I would give them 
 all for freedom from here ; but I cannot go without 
 hearing that which I once so angrily refused to hear.' 
 Then the face of the fairy changed, and the dear, true 
 face of his love was before him as she had appeared the 
 last time he saw her in their youth. Tears overflowed her 
 eyes, and she cried, l Oh, hear me ! let me tell you all !' 
 and he sprang up, exclaiming, ' Why have you forsaken 
 me?' Augusta, will you finish the prisoner's fable?" 
 
 Trembling, her bosom fluttering with the internal 
 struggle for composure, Augusta forced an attempt to 
 speak, but, utterly overcome, she burst into an uncon- 
 trollable fit of tears and sobs. 
 
 Forgetting everything but her distress, Bernhard 
 rushed to her, grasped her hands, and, holding them 
 firmly, excitedly exclaimed,
 
 180 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 " Gussie, my Gussie, forgive me ! I love you do you 
 not know it? better than my life, my soul! My poor 
 lost darling, do not weep. Gussie, speak to me, tell me 
 you forgive my cruelty." 
 
 Augusta composed herself, and, gently forcing him 
 to release her, she said, with quiet dignity, but not 
 angrily, "You forget that I am the wife of another, 
 whom I have solemnly promised to honor." 
 
 As if suddenly recalled from heavenly bliss, his eyes 
 lost their momentary brilliance; his arms fell at his 
 side, and, staggering rather than walking across the 
 room, he grasped his hat and turned to leave. 
 
 "True! My God! that I could forget it even for an 
 instant !" he said, hoarsely. 
 
 She hastened after him, and, placing her hand on his 
 arm, detained him: "Would you leave me again with- 
 out hearing what I have to say ?" 
 
 She took his hand and led him to a seat beside her, 
 and, with her hand resting in his own, she related the 
 story of her marriage. 
 
 " Oh, Bernhard, what could I do ? If you had lis- 
 tened to me then, this painful scene would not have 
 occurred. You would have forgiven me." 
 
 "I have nothing to forgive, Augusta; you were de- 
 ceived and shamefully beguiled; and I added to your 
 misery. Oh, say you will forget my conduct, Augusta, 
 and forgive me!" 
 
 "With all my heart. We were both so young and 
 inexperienced." 
 
 "You are an angel!" Bernhard exclaimed, pressing 
 her hand to his lips respectfully; "and I thank you for 
 your confidence; it has removed a heavy weight from
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 181 
 
 my heart. What your feelings may be towards me is 
 not my right to know; but I honor and worship you 
 to-day with the same depth of affection that I enter- 
 tained towards you when a boy, as I shall love you 
 into all eternity. This confession pardon also, for the 
 moment of parting has come, forever in this life.". 
 
 "What do you mean? What terrible thing do you 
 meditate?" 
 
 "I meditate flight and freedom. The commandant 
 will receive notice to-day that I retract my parole of 
 honor. I return to my cell, not to leave it again until 
 I leave it for all time." 
 
 " You will attempt an impossibility." 
 
 " And yet I shall attempt it, if it cost me my life. 
 Do I not tell you that I love you, and you are the wife 
 of another? After such a confession can I return 
 here ? God help me, no ! It would be the vilest 
 treason towards the man that is my friend, whom I am 
 forced to esteem because of his intrinsic worth and pure 
 character. For his sake, for yours, for mine, we will 
 part, we must say farewell." 
 
 The bowed head rested on the heaving bosom ; Au- 
 gusta's breath came quick and short ; then, rising, with 
 a passionate motion she held out her arms, crying, 
 " Yes, you must leave ! Oh, Beruhard, I also love 
 you ! love you !" 
 
 One moment he held her close to his heart; the next 
 he was gone, bearing with him such a light and happy 
 soul : she loved him ! 
 
 His prison and his narrow cell were illuminated with 
 the excess of his happiness. She loved him ! he asked 
 no more. 
 
 16
 
 182 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 MONTHS passed, and Bernhard still occupied his 
 prison-quarters. Every plan had proved unavailing; 
 still, night and day he had but one thought in view, 
 escape. 
 
 The brief time granted him now to exercise or walk 
 in the inclosure gave him little opportunity to study 
 outside aid. He was walking as usual one day through 
 the long hall leading to the jail-keeper's door, when 
 he was surprised to see a woman motioning to him to 
 approach, at the same time placing her finger on her 
 mouth to warn him not to speak. 
 
 It was Hannah, a girl he had often noticed in the 
 general's house, a servant of Augusta's, and the 
 daughter of the jailer. 
 
 As he came to the door she closed it, leaving only a 
 small crevice, through which she whispered, " Go to 
 your room ; I will speak to you there." 
 
 That she came with a message from Augusta, and 
 that it would prove of importance, he did not doubt. 
 
 He had barely entered his cell when Hannah made 
 her appearance. 
 
 " I know what you are thinking about, doctor. I 
 have promised a kind friend of yours to aid you. 
 Please ask no questions who the person may be. I 
 have sworn never to disclose the name, and will not. 
 My father is sick ; I have permission to stay and nurse
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. J83 
 
 him. What can be done to assist your flight must be 
 done soon. God willing, to-morrow !" 
 
 In a few hasty words she unfolded a plan that seemed 
 feasible, and then left the cell. 
 
 That evening Bernhard complained of feeling un- 
 well ; and after the sleepless, exciting night that fol- 
 lowed, thinking of a possible recapture, or of the 
 freedom that seemed at last about to be attained, plan- 
 ning and studying out his future course if escape 
 should prove successful, in the morning there was no 
 occasion to make a pretense of illness. The physician 
 resident in the fortress was called, and said the patient 
 was threatened with congestion of the brain. 
 
 When the officer on duty made his last rounds, 
 Bernhard was wrapped to his chin in the bedclothes, 
 and his person was covered with a suit of black, 
 even to the thick woolen socks that were drawn over 
 his boots. 
 
 The officer on duty happened to be a young man 
 noted for his remarkable want of those attributes of 
 mind that are necessary to make a man use his wits 
 to the best advantage. And when his companions 
 shrugged their shoulders behind his back, and said his 
 flashes of wit were not dangerous to his longevity, they 
 did him no great injustice. 
 
 He boasted of his hatred of all womankind : partic- 
 ularly did he dislike and avoid all pretty servant-girls; 
 and when he did meet them in out-of-the-way corners, 
 it was only to show his utter detestation of the whole 
 race. The girls all trembled at the approach of this 
 terrible ogre, even pretty Hannah, towards whom he 
 harbored an especial hate. On this particular evening
 
 184 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 he was surprised and inflamed with anger to see the 
 pretty girl cross his path with a friendly smile, but 
 he conquered his hate sufficiently to listen while she 
 told him of her probable stay for a few days on account 
 of her father's illness. Boiling with aversion, he was 
 forced to attend to innumerable things in the vicinity 
 of the jailer's rooms before it was time to make the last 
 tour of inspection through the prison. Then, entirely 
 forgetting his assistant's sickness, he walked into the 
 room with his lantern when the hour arrived, and 
 would have withdrawn to return to the guard-room and 
 order one of the other turnkeys to accompany him, 
 perhaps, but innocent Hannah thought it her duty 
 to take her father's place this once, and shyly suggested 
 this to him, assuring him that she was familiar with the 
 use of the keys and the construction of the different 
 locks. 
 
 The man's rage knew no bounds. Still, he sub- 
 mitted. Hannah's sister, a large, masculine female, rose, 
 and took the bunch of keys hanging on the wall, and 
 ordered her young sister to put on a pair of wooden 
 shoes over her own. 
 
 "It is damp and drafty in those corridors," she said 
 to the officer, " and Hannah is not strong like one of 
 us ; the general's wife has spoiled her." 
 
 Hannah was a very pretty picture, as she stood there 
 with the lantern in one hand and the bunch of keys in 
 the other, her laughing, roguish face flushed, her chin 
 and cheeks dimpling with health, her eyes sparkling so 
 brightly that the woman-hater wanted to crush her then 
 and there. But he was a man of great character and 
 principle, and he again conquered his overwhelming
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 185 
 
 inclination to crush the blooming little chambermaid. 
 He made it a point never to display his dislike for any 
 one of the sex in the presence of a third party. This 
 was also a matter of principle with him ; and when 
 Hannah said, with a bewitching courtesy, "At your 
 service !" he thought, " Wait, you formidable female, 
 until I get you alone !" and in the first shady corner 
 of the corridor beyond the door he slyly placed his arm 
 around her slender waist, and whispered in her pretty 
 little pink ear, " You you dearest, sweetest creature, 
 bless me with one kiss, -just one, my pretty !" 
 
 The unprotected little innocent looked at the terrible 
 ogre, shocked and surprised, while she removed herself 
 from the reach of his arm. " Why, you awful man !" 
 she said ; but he cunningly contrived to encircle the 
 hated being again, pleading, " Oh, Hannah, cruel Han- 
 nah, just one kiss !" 
 
 " For shame, you bad man ! Suppose some one is 
 looking?" 
 
 "No danger," replied the brave soldier of his 
 majesty ; " I have taken the precaution necessary to 
 enjoy an uninterrupted moment of bliss with you : the 
 guards are all in the room, toasting their cold toes by 
 the fire. Ah, you pretty sweet, I was not born yes- 
 terday !" 
 
 Hannah's eyes danced with delight at having such a 
 far-seeing gallant, such a devoted lover ; and she has- 
 tened on with her duties until they came to Bernhard's 
 door. 
 
 She opened it, and swung the lantern over her head 
 so that the light would fall upon the prisoner. The 
 officer entered the cell and addressed Bernhard : 
 
 16*
 
 186 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 " Understand you are ill, doctor ; too bad, really ; 
 hope it is nothing serious ?" 
 
 " Oh, I am suffering terribly !" replied Bernhard ; 
 " have taken a dose that is driving the perspiration out 
 of every pore in rny body ; trust it will bring relief by 
 morning." 
 
 " Don't envy you, really. Russian baths not to my 
 taste. Something better on hand. Good-night, doctor." 
 
 Hannah waved the lantern over her head again, and 
 said, "Ready?" The officer turned with a charming 
 smile, and replied, " Yes," and followed her out of the 
 cell. 
 
 A dark object crept noiselessly after them, taking 
 refuge in the shadow behind Hannah, as she held the 
 lantern high up so that the light would fall in the offi- 
 cer's face, while she looked at him at the same time with 
 an inviting smile on her lip that the defender of his 
 highness the king could not resist. Quickly turning 
 the key in the lock, he seized the odious waiting-maid, 
 crushing her in his embrace so suddenly that she let the 
 lantern fall with a crash, extinguishing the light, and 
 leaving them in total darkness. 
 
 " Thunderation !" exclaimed the soldier. 
 
 "Oh, how could you frighten me so?" cried the 
 girl. " Whist ! you awful man, and stand here quietly 
 while I run and get another light." 
 
 Directly he heard her wooden-shod tread receding 
 towards her father's apartments. 
 
 But he did not hear the muffled footstep at her side, 
 or see her unlock a door going into her father's lumber- 
 room and relock it on the dark object that had entered 
 it. In a moment she was beside her adorer again with
 
 UNDER .THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 another lantern, and the brave officer was not to be 
 cheated now. " You must be punished ; you must, in- 
 deed/' said he ; and right mercilessly he pressed several 
 hasty kisses on her rosy mouth. 
 
 Hannah was not naturally a frivolous girl, and not 
 entirely without a tolerable Yegard for truth. Still, 
 when she returned to her father's room and was ques- 
 tioned in regard to her flushed appearance, she said it 
 was in consequence of the exciting visits to the pris- 
 oners ; but why the excitement affected only one cheek 
 was not explained. 
 
 Half an hour later, when the officer was sitting in the 
 guard-room, Hannah came rushing in, pale and alarmed. 
 
 " Oh, my poor father is worse, and the doctor is in 
 town. Will you see that my sister is passed through 
 the outer portals? They are already locked for the 
 night. She must go and bring the absent physician 
 immediately !" cried Hannah. 
 
 " Certainly, my sweet," said the officer ; " but if 
 your father is in danger, why not call Dr. Berndal in 
 the mean time ?" 
 
 " Oh, he is sick himself. Don't you remember he 
 said he was taking a sweat ?" 
 
 " So he did ; I had forgotten." 
 
 He instantly gave orders to pass the sister beyond the 
 outer guard posts. 
 
 Early the following morning, accompanied by a turn- 
 key, he made the rounds, and found to his consternation 
 that the sick Dr. Berndal had vanished. 
 
 "That perspiring dose has been too much for the 
 poor man !" Hannah remarked, with a sorrowful coun- 
 tenance, to the officer.
 
 188 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 The sister had returned, in company with the doctor, 
 within half an hour after she set out for him. One 
 thing, however, escaped observation: the woman had 
 left the fortress twice within the hour, the first time 
 before the relief guards came on, and had returned 
 only once, and then in the company of the physician. 
 
 The father was better, and during the remainder of 
 the night the two loving daughters sat watching at the 
 bedside of the soundly slumbering man, who could 
 not imagine what occasioned the sudden and needless 
 devotion, having experienced no such sudden sinking as 
 Hannah thought she had perceived. 
 
 It is plain to be seen that the plan of escape origi- 
 nated entirely in the cunning brain of a woman. Han- 
 nah required months to bring the web to perfection, to 
 observe conditions, study situations and persons, and 
 clutch the combinations at the right moment, assured of 
 success. She trusted in the notorious reputation for 
 dislike towards all womankind borne by the man she 
 had selected as the instrument necessary to the com- 
 pletion of her scheme. 
 
 When she told Bernhard that a friend of his had 
 sent her to aid him, she wished him to think that 
 her mistress was the person in question, simply to fur- 
 ther her plan, and that she might not meet with any 
 opposition from him, and also to apply to his sore heart 
 a little womanly balm concocted wholly in that sympa- 
 thizing heart of hers. She possessed a very keen pair 
 of eyes and a very sharp pair of ears. And she also 
 loved her kind mistress devotedly, but she had her own 
 opinion as girls in her position will have regarding 
 the melancholy, handsome young doctor and that lady.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 189 
 
 Her active little brain reveled in the most extravagant 
 fancies, and she espoused their cause enthusiastically, 
 without daring to exhibit the hearty interest she felt in 
 their affairs. 
 
 It was by the merest accident that she overheard the 
 conversation between the two during that last trying 
 meeting. The story of their unhappy love brought the 
 tears to her eyes, and excited an interest and admiration 
 in her soul for the unselfish, honorable lovers which 
 reached its highest bounds when the touching farewell 
 was spoken. The tender-hearted Hannah came near 
 betraying her propinquity by the convulsive cry that 
 she managed to smother in time to avoid disturbing in 
 a rude and unexpected manner their eternal separation. 
 She resolved then and there that the wretchedly-cheated 
 young man should escape. 
 
 Her duties as waiting- and chambermaid gave her an 
 opportunity to secure a passport from among the papers 
 of a relative visiting the commandant for a few days. 
 As the gentleman was traveling in an opposite direction, 
 it chanced the pass was not in immediate demand. " The 
 description answered to both parties, unless subjected to 
 unusual scrutiny, the height and complexion of both 
 being the same. 
 
 Hannah planned, and succeeded, as we are aware, and 
 the hundred solid dollars Bernhard left in his overcoat- 
 pocket in Hannah's care found their way into the hard, 
 masculine palm of Hannah's sister. What the girl 
 herself accomplished she did out of pure sympathy; 
 her reward was in the satisfaction she carried in her 
 romantic little heart that she had contributed to the 
 happiness of two unfortunate lovers.
 
 190 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 If the unapproachable yet gentle dignity that char- 
 acterized her mistress had only permitted the familiar- 
 ity of confiding to her what she had done, and also the 
 probable whereabouts of the doctor, the girl would 
 have asked no more When the news of Bernhard's 
 escape was brought her, Augusta was puzzled, as was 
 every one else, as to how he had effected it. 
 
 Bernhard reached Paris in safety, and destroyed his 
 passport, thus disposing of the only clue by which 
 could be traced any assistant in his flight. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CHRISTMAS-EVE in the city ! All is hurry and bustle 
 in the streets ; women with baskets and bundles and 
 packages push and elbow one another ; men with coat- 
 collars drawn over neck and ears are loaded with in- 
 numerable parcels, their pockets standing out like 
 well-filled panniers from the cramming they have been 
 subjected to. 
 
 At home, wives and mothers are collecting together 
 the articles that have been hidden in all sorts of corners 
 and out-of-the-way spots, where the one for whom they 
 are intended would not be likely to spy them until the 
 time arrived for the presentation. 
 
 Here we find parents in whispered consultation about 
 the importance of Christmas-gift arrangements for the 
 little ones, who have been ordered to some remote apart-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 191 
 
 ment in the mean time, and are also whispering and dis- 
 playing the gifts so soon to surprise their parents. 
 
 In the back parlor of another house a group of chil- 
 dren are impatiently watching the doors that hide from 
 them the mother and that great Christmas-tree they 
 have managed to get a glimpse of in the course of 
 preparation. One wee " tot" tip-toes softly towards 
 the crevice between the doors, and stands peeping with 
 all her might, without being able to discern anything, 
 while an older sister indignantly cries, " Oh, you 
 naughty girl, I'll tell on you ! You won't get any- 
 thing, I know !" 
 
 The "tot" replies, indifferent and confident, "Yes, 
 I will. I am not bad ; I didn't see anything." 
 
 Everywhere there is joy for the children to-night. 
 Where there is not abundance, the little one is as 
 rejoiced over a miserable, inexpensive little woolen 
 lamb, with legs as frail and thin as lucifer-matches. 
 and is as grateful to the "Christ-child" who is sup- 
 posed to have brought it, as are the children in that 
 beautiful house with its grand tree and costly toys. 
 
 Who can that old man be, hastening down the street? 
 His footsteps are as light and free as if he carried 
 air in his bosom instead of the sluggish blood of old 
 age. 
 
 It is the letter-carrier, and he is speeding to take 
 good news to the gable-roofed house, where he has de- 
 livered so many letters for years and years. 
 
 " It will be such a joy for them ! such a joy !" he 
 exclaims, his face radiant with good will. 
 
 The blinds were closed, but within all was light and 
 cheer. Mrs. Berndal stood surveying a monster tree
 
 192 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 loaded down with toys and ornaments ; on the white 
 cover that was spread over the large table in the centre 
 of which stood the tree, were arranged a number of 
 plates, each containing cakes, nuts, and confections, be- 
 side which were packages each marked with the name 
 of its intended recipient. Suddenly she remembered 
 something that was yet hidden, and left the room to 
 secure it. 
 
 A ring at the door-bell just then called the judge's 
 attention. He placed the cane to the end of which 
 he had been tying a wax taper, wherewith to light 
 those out of arm's reach on the tree on the table, and 
 went to the door. 
 
 " A letter for you, judge. A letter from the young 
 doctor from Paris !" stuttered the delightedly excited 
 old man. 
 
 " From my son ?" asked the astonished and doubting 
 man, taking it and glancing at the superscription. 
 
 " Yes, from him ; I know the writing well. God 
 bless you, judge ! God bless you and your good lady ! 
 A merry Christmas I wish you, judge, with all my 
 heart ! May it bring you joy and peace !" 
 
 The good soul pocketed his Christmas-gift, and went 
 away muttering, " Good people ! I hope it will give 
 them peace !" 
 
 The judge tore the letter open, and read, 
 
 " Dear father, dear, dear mother, I arrived 
 
 He heard his wife coming, and quickly folded it 
 together and placed it in a large parcel on the table. 
 
 " The tree not lighted ! How long will that poor child 
 have to wait yet ?" she exclaimed. 
 
 " Only a moment, Lottie ; I was detained at the
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 193 
 
 door. You can light the lower tapers while I attend 
 to the others." 
 
 The door was thrown wide open, and a little fellow 
 was pushed into the room by his mother. Astounded 
 by all this glitter and display, he stood with his finger 
 in his mouth, looking timidly at a large rocking-horse, 
 a drum, and other wonderful things to which his atten- 
 tion was directed by his mother, who wondered why 
 the boy did not scream for joy. 
 
 "Santa Glaus has brought you all these, August; 
 why do you not look at them, and play with them, you 
 queer child ?" 
 
 "Never mind him, Matilda," said grandma; "he 
 will wake up by-and-by." 
 
 Then all the members of the family took possession 
 of their packages, and amidst exclamations of pleased 
 surprise they turned to Mrs. Berndal. 
 
 Bafore her lay a beautiful fur set. In the large muff 
 she placed her hand, expressing her gratification, as 
 she did so, for the welcome present, and came in contact 
 with a paper ; drawing it out, she saw it was a letter. 
 She stepped closer to the light, opened it, and gave 
 a glad cry. "From Bernhard ! a letter from my boy!" 
 
 They all pressed around her in joyous anticipation of 
 at last hearing from that runaway. 
 
 Overcome, the mother seated herself and began to 
 read, 
 
 " Dear father, dear, dear mother, I arrived safely 
 in Paris- 
 She could get no farther: the tears blinded her sight; 
 wipe them away as she would, they welled up again so 
 fast she could not read. 
 
 i 17
 
 194 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Can any one but a mother understand and realize 
 how her heart also overflowed with unutterable glad- 
 ness? how her soul was uplifted in gratitude to 
 Him? 
 
 All the others wept with her; the only eyes that 
 did not glisten with tears were those of little Gus, 
 who watched intently the emotions of grandma, and 
 when she said Paris, bestrode his steed like one wild, 
 whipping away with that splendid new whip, and 
 shouting, " To Paris ! away, horse ! away ! to Paris, 
 for grandma !" 
 
 Uncle Thomas did not know that he also was in- 
 dulging in what he considered "feminine weakness," 
 until, the briny fluid rolling over his face and lips, 
 the unusual taste made him pass his hand across his 
 mouth and look around in trepidation ; then, assuring 
 himself that the others were too much occupied with 
 their own feelings, he limped out into the open air, 
 where he could give way to his emotions, and subdue 
 them in his own fashion. 
 
 Standing in the darkness, alone, he reverently folded 
 his hands, and, looking up into the free air of heaven, 
 he said, 
 
 " May I be struck by the tempest, you good God up 
 there, if I don't thank you on my knees for taking this 
 awful burden out of my bosom ! I hope the devil will 
 get me if I ever forget to thank you day and night 
 that the boy doesn't have to suffer all his life on my 
 account, and spend his best days in that damned hole ! 
 You good God up there, hear me! I thank you !" 
 
 He stood a moment in reverent silence; then, draw- 
 ing his silk handkerchief out of his pocket, he wiped
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 195 
 
 his eyes and blew his nose, and, feeling himself master 
 of the situation once more, he returned to the house 
 to hear the rest of the letter. 
 
 Gus and his noble steed had been to Paris and back 
 for dear grandma, and while the tired horse was taking 
 a rest the little fellow was investigating his other 
 treasures; grandma buckled on his sword for him, 
 and, as soldier, drummer, and mounted brigand com- 
 bined, the hero at last surrendered to the invisible con- 
 queror sleep. Sitting on the sofa between mother and 
 grandmother, he winked and blinked at the enemy a 
 little while, then succumbed without further struggle. 
 
 Many years had come and gone since his first ride to 
 Paris, and frequent rides had he taken since, to bring 
 or deliver messages from Uncle Bernhard, when one 
 day the faithful animal, yielding to feebleness and old 
 age, fell, to rise no more, beneath the ponderous weight 
 of his master. 
 
 Time passes rapidly in a house where there are 
 children. It is not computed according to the dates 
 of month or year as given in the almanac. When 
 mothers or grandmothers wish to refer to some event 
 in the past, their memory carries them into the nur- 
 sery, and they calculate from the time Maria had the 
 measles or Betty cut her first tooth, or so many days 
 after Johnny had his first pantaloons. 
 
 So the time was noted in the gable-roofed house 
 after the arrival of little August. 
 
 At the age of ten years he was the pride and torment 
 of the household. Overflowing with health and the 
 restless spirit of boyish enterprise, his clothes and ap- 
 pearance gave hourly evidence of it, one moment a
 
 196 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 terrific rent in his trousers, the next, a torn pocket ; 
 even his boots, that refused to follow the path prescribed 
 for his feet, had a habit of going awry. No matter how 
 neatly mother Matilda arranged his shirt-collar one 
 moment, the next, as if by magic, the obstinate bit of 
 linen presented an oblique front. 
 
 No sooner was the comb out of his mother's hand 
 than his hair stood out again in rebellious protest, re- 
 fusing to be imprisoned by the soft little cap placed 
 properly on his head a dozen times a day. 
 
 If, perchance, he entered the house with trousers 
 legs down, and not, as usual, one trying forcibly to 
 enter his boot-top, there was sure to be some distracting 
 complaint : " Ma, that stupid nail caught my jacket !" 
 " Ma, the limb of that hateful old tree burst my 
 trousers !" " Ma, please brush me ; Hans pushed me 
 out of the barn." 
 
 As he comes in from play with bloody nose and 
 bruised face, the mother, frightened out of her wits, 
 cries, " What have you been doing ?" 
 
 " Nothing, ma ; me and Johnny So-and-so were only 
 fooling." 
 
 Mother Matilda clasps her hands in perplexed dis- 
 tress : " Oh, was there ever such another wild, incorri- 
 gible child?" 
 
 Grandma's memory reverts to similar incidents in 
 the history of her boys, Bernhard and Albert, and 
 while she consoles the mother with recitals of what 
 appear to be hereditary failings, the bloody nose, and 
 the torn trousers and jacket, disappear. 
 
 Another source of trouble to his mother was the 
 strange and unaccountable manner in which his hand-
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 197 
 
 kerchiefs vanished. She sewed one corner firmly to his 
 pocket, yet the boy was never known to have such an 
 article about him. But taken from temptation and 
 evil influences, and placed under the soothing power of 
 tired nature, between the covers of his little bed, he was 
 a very good little fellow. Intellectually, he also gave 
 great promise at this age, and could inform you that the 
 " earth was round, and the lion was a noble animal," 
 in the original, "terra est rotunda, leo est," etc. 
 
 As her boy grew in strength and beauty, the mother 
 failed. One by one the earth lost its charms as health 
 gradually gave way to the destroyer. When the family 
 ceased to hope for her improvement, she only expressed 
 one more wish in life, to see her brother ; she longed for 
 one more sight of Bern hard. 
 
 He was still in Paris, and employed, as he lacked 
 neither opportunity, will, nor knowledge to occupy his 
 time advantageously. 
 
 The restrictions of his disguise fretted him sorely. 
 He was homesick ! This is not a sickness to be con- 
 quered by medicines or the strongest power of will. 
 
 He was homesick ; he must have change, anything 
 but this dull gnawing, that began to destroy every 
 thought and action with its yearning for home, mother, 
 friends. 
 
 One day he found himself in the glorious valley of 
 his native place, every sense jubilant as the familiar 
 scenes passed swiftly before him. 
 
 After awhile the carriage halted before the dear old 
 home, the silver light of the moon falling on the gable- 
 roof as peacefully as if the hearts beneath it had not 
 been torn and worn with grief and loss. 
 
 17*
 
 198 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 On the steps was seated a figure, leaning quietly 
 against the door. It was Mina, the trusty old house- 
 girl. 
 
 Albert jumped out of the carriage. "Mina, are the 
 folks all at home ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Albert." 
 
 " Are they alone ? Is Uncle Thomas with them ?" 
 
 " No ; they are quite alone." 
 
 Bernhard leaped out of the carriage and entered 
 the house. 
 
 Albert called Mina aside and said, " Lock every door, 
 and if any one calls, say that your mistress and master 
 are engaged. You understand?" 
 
 Unobserved, Bernhard softly opened the door of the 
 sitting-room. His parents were seated before a little 
 table, playing chess. His mother had evidently made 
 a successful move, for she said, smiling at her husband, 
 who sat with his back towards the door, " That was 
 your own fault. Where are your thoughts to-night, 
 father?" 
 
 Looking up and seeing a stranger in the door, she 
 rose to greet him, when the tremulous word " Mother !" 
 fell on her ears, and with a cry of "Bernhard, my son !" 
 they were locked in each other's arms. Her mother- 
 heart was not deceived by his changed appearance. 
 Not a word of reproach was mingled in the joy of that 
 happy family reunion. 
 
 Once again, after his wanderings, his weary years 
 among strangers, an outcast pilgrim, a homeless fugi- 
 tive, his head rested softly on the pillow of home : the 
 realization was not for long, but the bliss that rested 
 and refreshed his being was his for all time.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 199 
 
 The room, the bed, of his boyhood ! Surely all the 
 intervening years, the sorrows, and absence from the 
 familiar place, must be a dream ! 
 
 He is too happy to sleep. Is not that a footstep 
 stealing towards his door ? Yes, nearer and nearer ; the 
 door opens softly: he does not move; he knows what is 
 coming: a face is bent over him, a gentle kiss is pressed 
 on his lips, a tear falls on his cheek. Suddenly the 
 form is clasped in his arms, mother and son weep to- 
 gether for joy. 
 
 Directly father joins them, with a plausible air of 
 impatience. " What absurdity is this, mother, keeping 
 the boy from his rest, when you have all of to-morrow 
 before you for your nonsensical weeping and kissing? 
 Come, come, old lady; this will never do in the world !" 
 
 While scolding and grumbling thus, his apparent 
 solicitude is contradicted by his clearing a comfortable 
 position for himself on the edge of the bed beside his 
 wife ; and, utterly regardless of the needful rest, the 
 three sit and talk till daylight. 
 
 Uncle Thomas presented himself early for admit- 
 tance, and when informed by Mina that "her people 
 had but just retired," he limped as noiselessly as possible 
 into Bernhard's room. 
 
 " Thunder ! how the fellow sleeps ! A body would 
 suppose that prisons and gendarmes were things that 
 did not exist," he muttered, while examining Bernhard's 
 valuables that were lying on the table. "He has the 
 old watch still," he said, with a pleased smile. "The 
 boy values it, perhaps for the giver's sake, bless him ! 
 But this pocket-book looks lean, hungry; a little mor- 
 sel may come handy," slipping a bank-note into one
 
 200 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 of the compartments. He replaced things as he had 
 found them, and then, with noise enough to arouse the 
 seven sleepers, seated himself beside the bed, startling 
 Bernhard out of his slumbers to find himself clasped 
 in the bear-like embrace of Uncle Thomas. 
 
 "Out of this, young man ! get right up; I want to 
 see something of you before the whole family take 
 possession, for good-by to my chances then !" 
 
 The old gentleman was right. At breakfast, Albert, 
 and Matilda and her husband, and the youthful but 
 important scion of the house, August, all came in for a 
 share of the attention of the visitor. 
 
 Mina, the wise guardian of the door, admitted none 
 into the house, persisting that the judge and madam 
 were not at home, while the lively voices from within 
 left the callers doubtful of the girl's veracity. 
 
 We pass over the parting hour. It is the saddest of 
 all sad things to part from those we love under such 
 circumstances as those that necessitated the separation 
 of our friends. Bernhard's professional knowledge 
 told him the parting with his sister was forever, that 
 they would never meet again on earth. It was a sor- 
 rowful parting, but the pleasure of having met once 
 more compensated for the pain. 
 
 Three months later, Bernhard was in Algiers. There 
 he found what he sought : change, excitement, a life 
 of activity and fatigue, with efficacious results. 
 
 He asked and received permission to become a vol- 
 unteer surgeon in the army, and connected himself with 
 a regiment under marching orders. 
 
 The first letter from home contained the painful but 
 not unexpected news of Matilda's death.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 201 
 
 He joined General Bedeair's expedition two years 
 later, and soon after his arrival in Africa he received 
 letters informing him of the death of Augusta's hus- 
 band, and also the news that left him free to return 
 unmolested to his native land. The old sovereign was 
 no more, and the new one had graciously pardoned the 
 fugitive. 
 
 The success of Bedeau's army had been published 
 over the land, and the longing, anxious parents were 
 looking for the return of their son. 
 
 Long, long they .vaited, without hearing a word, 
 till Judge Berndal at last appealed for information to 
 the French Government, and received the intelligence 
 that Dr. Berndal had joined a scouting-party, who 
 were surprised near a jungle by a body of natives. 
 only a few of the party escaping. Dr. Bernhaid 
 Berndal was among the missing. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AT fourteen years of age Master August was le- 
 markable for two prejudices : one was an unreasoning 
 contempt for girls, the other, an unbounded admiration 
 for brigandism. 
 
 The first he displayed by watching them from some 
 retreat as they whispered their innocent secrets into 
 one another's ears, in charming little groups, when he 
 would disdainfully exclaim to himsalf, " What on 
 earth can those geese have to be so merry about?" 
 i*
 
 202 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 and then devote himself to the study of his beloved 
 Schiller and his " Robbers." 
 
 He had two intimate friends and school-mates who 
 shared these prejudices; and together they studied the 
 one and sneered at the other, impatient for vacation, so 
 that they could have time to form a regular robber 
 band and find a place for their head-quarters. 
 
 To say that the lonely, but for their purpose desira- 
 ble, marsh, and the vicinity of that old bell-tower, 
 had escaped their observation, would be doing great 
 injustice to these warm admirers of Schiller. 
 
 At last it was vacation. August received permis- 
 sion to visit his friends on their father's estate, some 
 miles from the city. 
 
 Equipped for their marauding expedition, but not 
 too proud to accept the lunch prepared by the mother 
 of the two boys to sustain their courage throughout the 
 day, they set out in search of a suitable head-quarters, 
 and marched direct to the bell-tower near the moor. 
 
 They surveyed the premises carefully, in the hope of 
 finding some loophole admitting a passage into the 
 tower itself, but at last gave it up, and held a con- 
 sultation regarding their next move. 
 
 If a hole in the ground was out of the question, a 
 cave could be built on the surface. Rocks and rubbish 
 for this purpose were at hand in abundance. 
 
 The "spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," is 
 an oft-quoted and trite old saying. And this proved 
 another instance where the weak flesh strengthened 
 with the requirements of the willing spirit. 
 
 Great heavy rocks, that were half buried in earth and 
 the rubbish of the ruins, were unearthed with almost
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 203 
 
 superhuman effort and patience, and by dint of push- 
 ing and dragging were brought to the spot where they 
 were to serve for corner-stones to the " cave." 
 
 That day they went home tired from their labors, 
 to return again on the next with renewed vigor to 
 their work; then the pleasure was so great, and so 
 proud were they of their structure, that they gave 
 their parents no rest until they promised to come out 
 in the afternoon to inspect the formidable den, with its 
 Cyclopean walls, that occupied more space than was 
 left inside ; still, the robbers had room for themselves^ 
 and possibly for some refractory prisoner, whose height 
 would not measure over four feet. 
 
 The dimensions of the cave were a source of annoy- 
 ance to the boys when, in the afternoon, their parents 
 arrived, and proved its utter incapacity of receiving 
 even one of them within its inhospitable walls ; but 
 they laughingly assured them the bird's-eye view they 
 obtained of the comfort of the interior was delight- 
 ful. The elders wandered away to view the sur- 
 roundings; and the boys, after a short but decisive 
 deliberation, concluded they must have a larger den, 
 and, while they were about it, might as well dig a 
 real cave underneath. 
 
 August the Strong knew just where to find a long, 
 flat stone for a foundation. Although the regular work 
 was postponed for another day, they thought they 
 would see if the stone could be removed from the spot 
 where it had evidently lain for years, having sunk into 
 the ground several inches. 
 
 \Yorking with a will and determination to succeed, 
 the stone was raised, and to their extreme surprise dis-
 
 204 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 closed the mouth of a cylinder, or pipe, large enough 
 to admit conveniently any one of the excited boys. 
 
 Here was a valuable discovery. Christopher Co- 
 lumbus had discovered America, but any one with a 
 respectable power of endurance can find America : all 
 that is needed is to sail westward until it is reached ; 
 but they envied no one such glory and renown at that 
 moment. Had they not discovered an entrance into 
 the tower, a perfect robbers' stronghold ? 
 
 They gazed not, as they had expected, into impen- 
 etrable night, but into a mysterious, dusky chamber, 
 only a few feet removed from the opening. 
 
 August crept in, followed by his companions; and 
 in a moment they found themselves in the old tower. 
 High over them the sun came in through a crevice or 
 window, sending its light down through an opening in 
 the floor of the tower itself. The entrance to the room 
 in which they stood had been walled up; but they 
 knew it was just outside of it, where the ruins and 
 rubbish were piled the highest. 
 
 On the floor lay a pile of lumber, the broken and 
 decayed remains of what once had been a flight of stairs 
 leading to the opening in the floor above. In the wall 
 there were small holes, loop-holes, probably, which 
 caught the attention of the youthful robber chieftain, 
 suggesting means of reaching and surveying the upper 
 tower. 
 
 August no sooner conceived the idea than he gave a 
 leap and began to mount the wall ; but his companions 
 hesitated, and, scenting danger, endeavored to dissuade 
 their rash captain from the attempt. 
 
 " If you are afraid to follow me, stay where you are !"
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 205 
 
 he said. Mounting higher, he reached the opening ; 
 but just as he placed his hand on the floor to swing 
 himself up, he gave a fearful shriek, crying, as his 
 hold relaxed, "A ghost !" and the next moment he lay 
 senseless and bleeding at the feet of the horrified boys. 
 
 To get August through the opening into the air was 
 the first thing to be done, and this was accomplished 
 just as their parents' voices, not far away, promised 
 help for their companion. 
 
 Who can describe their distress as they found their 
 children bending over the bleeding, seemingly dead 
 boy? 
 
 He was placed in the carriage and taken home, 
 where all possible means of relief were immediately re- 
 sorted to; but the physician pronounced the injuries 
 internal and fatal. 
 
 Three days later, with his grandmother's agonized 
 face bending over him, he again uttered the shriek, " A 
 ghost ! a ghost !" and expired. 
 
 In the mean time, Judge Berndal, accompanied by 
 his son-in-law, his friend the father of the two boys, 
 and a few laborers, repaired to the tower. An entrance 
 was forced, and ladders were fastened together and 
 placed in communication with the upper tower. A 
 young carpenter in the party mounted, while the others 
 stood anxiously below. 
 
 They saw him give a start, whereupon a garrulous 
 little man below, whose curiosity had led him to fol- 
 low unbidden the investigating party, hallooed pertly, 
 "Are you scared, Horst? Come down before you faint, 
 and give us men a chance !" 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you village tailor ! Did you 
 18
 
 206 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 borrow the pantaloons from your wife for an hour, 
 that you talk so bravely? You had better go home 
 and let her pad your back against I get down there!" 
 replied Horst. 
 
 "What do you find up there anything?" asked the 
 judge. 
 
 " A skeleton !" 
 
 In a little while he came down, with a discolored 
 object in his hand, which he gave to one of the gentle- 
 men, saying, " There is a human skeleton up there. I 
 found this lying in the rent in the wall at its side. 
 There is nothing else." 
 
 It was a weather-stained leather portfolio. The lock 
 was undone, and the little key rusted firmly in its 
 place. 
 
 "A skeleton, Horst?" exclaimed August's father. 
 " That must have been the ghost that frightened my 
 poor boy ; but, for Heaven's sake, how did it get 
 there ?" 
 
 Judge Berndal reached out his hand for the portfolio. 
 His face was pale, and his limbs trembled as he opened 
 it. One glance at the gilt-edged book within, and, 
 with a cry that curdled the blood of his hearers, he 
 exclaimed, " Martha ! Martha ! Martha !" 
 
 His son-in-law ran to him, and supported his shaking 
 form. " What is the matter, father ? r 
 
 "What has happened ?" questioned every one, press- 
 ing around, curiously. 
 
 Large drops of sweat stood on the judge's forehead, 
 and rolled like beads over his ashen face. "The book! 
 That book!" 
 
 His alarmed son-in-law took the book out of the
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 207 
 
 portfolio. It was an elegantly bound sketch-book, the 
 morocco covers of which had protected the contents, 
 leaving the closely-written pages time-stained but in- 
 telligible. 
 
 " Her sketch-book ! Oh, my God ! my child !" 
 
 He disengaged himself from his son's arms, and 
 walked quickly towards the ladder. 
 
 "Where are you going, father?" asked his son. 
 
 "I am going to my child; to my poor, unfortunate 
 Martha!" With a sob, a groan so pitiful that it un- 
 manned all present, he leaned his head for a moment 
 against the hard wall. 
 
 Then, like a flash, his- son began to understand him; 
 they all began to realize that the dreadful thing up on 
 that floor must be Martha Berndal ! 
 
 It was indeed a frightful sight that met their gaze. 
 In one corner, slightly bent forward, and bleached by 
 wind and weather, crouched a human skeleton. Every 
 trace of clothing had disappeared but the leathern boots 
 that still clung to its feet. On the neck hung, sus- 
 pended from a slender gold chain, a* lady's watch. 
 
 In silent horror they stood around the judge, w r ho, 
 with a powerful eifort, controlled himself; but his voice 
 was feeble and broken as he said, seemingly to himself, 
 and unconscious of their presence, "That that awful, 
 awful thing is my pretty Martha! Oh, God! this 
 also? Thy hand rests cruelly on me and mine! My 
 poor wife, poor, long-suifering heart, how will she 
 bear this?" 
 
 They would have comforted him, but he replied, 
 "Leave me, I beg, friends; leave me alone with my 
 sorrow."
 
 208 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 Respectfully they obeyed him, only his friend and 
 son-in-law remaining. Turning to them, he said, " Do 
 me the kindness to drive to the city and send a coffin, 
 that I may place my child to rest ; but do not let my 
 wife hear of this before I return. I can tell her best." 
 
 His friend departed to execute his request, but his son 
 said, " I cannot leave you here alone, father." 
 
 " I am not alone ; my child is with me ; and you have 
 one at home who still requires your care. Go to him, 
 and God grant he may be spared to you." 
 
 " Father, my son is in the hands of God, as we all 
 are. I shall not leave this place without you." 
 
 A look of sorrowful affection passed between them ; 
 a mute hand -pressure sent a magnetic thrill of sym- 
 pathy from heart to heart. Then, silently seating them- 
 selves on a projection extending along the wall, they 
 examined the sketch-book. 
 
 The first pages were covered with drawings, inter- 
 spersed with poetry. Then followed closely-written 
 leaves, dating from the day she left home on her last 
 sketching excursion. 
 
 Is it in the power of words to describe the sensa- 
 tions that rent the father's heart as he read ? 
 
 "Monday, October 13, . Happy me! Lucky, for- 
 tunate Martha ! I have met with an adventure. Truly, 
 a real, genuine, extraordinary adventure ! How they 
 will scold and commiserate, while they open wide 
 their wondering eyes, when I reach home to-morrow 
 and relate my experience ! But, alas ! my poor parents 
 and brother, my darling Albert, and my good old 
 Uncle Thomas, what a fright I shall occasion you when 
 night passes over without the return of your Martha !
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 209 
 
 If I could only spare you th's anxiety ! Forgive me, 
 you dear ones, forgive me just this once ! 
 
 "Now let me adjust my recollections and bring 
 memory to order. But once more let me thank Thee, 
 thou merciful God, for my deliverance from the fright- 
 ful danger that might have left me at this moment a 
 mangled mass below. Thanks, thou tender, watchful 
 Father above. I will be grateful to the end of my 
 life. 
 
 " I was really undecided whither to direct my ram- 
 blings this morning, but the story of Captain von 
 Kleist's hunting accident on the moor suggested a view 
 of the Three Oaks in the vicinity. Accordingly, I fol- 
 lowed my thoughts, and found myself here about half- 
 past ten o'clock. The sun was getting uncomfortably 
 warm, and I sought the pretty spot under the cool 
 shadows of the tower where Uncle Thomas told me the 
 story of his life, and where the gypsy-girl appeared so 
 suddenly. I sat down to rest, and thought of a cir- 
 cumstance connected with her appearance, that I was 
 almost positive I had seen some one in the upper part 
 of the tower but a few moments previously. Then 
 her singular and equally sudden disappearance yes, 
 I felt convinced the gypsy came from the interior of 
 the tower; that a hidden entrance existed. I deter- 
 mined to make a vigorous search. 
 
 "In passing the pile of rubbish heaped against 
 the side where once the portal had been, I observed a 
 flat rock leaning against the wall, also that the ground 
 was slightly excavated, and on closer examination I 
 found an opening large enough to admit my per.- on. 
 
 "After quite a conflict between timidity and curiosity,
 
 210 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 robbers, thieves, counterfeiters, and hosts of other un- 
 comfortable forms haunted my imagination, curiosity 
 triumphed. I listened and listened, every faculty on 
 the alert. Nothing but utter silence within. 
 
 " I walked some distance from the place in a circle, and 
 scrutinized the ground. Not a blade of grass escaped 
 my observation. I flatter myself I managed the in- 
 spection with all the cunning of a pathfinder. Not 
 a particle of moss had been touched, not a stone up- 
 turned, by recent footsteps. My courage rose; I did 
 not hear anything uncommon, I did not see anything 
 suspicious. I humbled myself to the ground on all 
 fours, and, with really more fear and heart-beating than 
 I cafe to remember or pride myself in avowing, I 
 crawled through the opening, and found myself in the 
 mysterious tower, at the foot of a flight of stairs lead- 
 ing high up into the turret. 
 
 " The explanation of this opening w r as simple. The 
 gypsies had probably made it or found it, and had used 
 the haunted tower to store stolen goods, as a safe hiding- 
 place. The night they decamped so hurriedly they 
 had forgotten or neglected to close it and thus preserve 
 their secret. 
 
 " I became still braver : I began to mount the stairs, 
 not, however, without some faint-hearted hesitancy; 
 but that also vanished the higher I ascended and the 
 lighter it became around me ; and when the cheerful 
 daylight met me as I reached the floor and the blue sky 
 greeted me on all sides, my apprehensions took unto 
 themselves wings. 
 
 " Fear is the daughter of darkness. 
 
 " I stepped out on the platform, that is inclosed by a
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 211 
 
 wall reaching above my waist, and was surprised and 
 delighted at the magnificent view presented. It more 
 than repaid me for the momentary fright I suffered 
 during my exploration. I stood spell-bound, my senses 
 completely entranced ; I never before experienced such 
 a soul-charm. And I will not rest or give you peace 
 until I have you all up here. I expect, though, we 
 will have to enlarge that opening to admit the plump, 
 rotund person of Uncle Thomas. 
 
 " The position commands miles and miles of country 
 and landscape perfectly beautiful. Far as the eye can 
 range there is nothing but beauty. The moor, with its 
 circular centce of glistening water, looks so innocent 
 and lovely with its picturesque shrubs and its velvety 
 surface. Yon hills form a grand background, with 
 their peaks penetrating the tinted clouds. Over there 
 is the ocean : the waves are swelling, billowing, gently 
 along over the vast deep, whose boundless expanse 
 seems lost in the azure of the horizon. 
 
 " Not a house, not a spire, breaks the spell of nature's 
 presence; everywhere are seen the heavens and sheen 
 of green, the pennons of the forest summit, waving and 
 nodding under the sun's rays. I close my eyes; I 
 imagine I can hear the murmuring of the sea, the whis- 
 pering laughter of the leaves, the creaking, bending, 
 dancing utterances of the branches and boughs, as the 
 saucy wind kisses and caresses them with his airy 
 coquetry. 
 
 " It is a charming, heavenly picture ! 
 
 " Resting on the wall, my arms crossed, my head lean- 
 ing on my hands, I closed my eyes and reverenced God 
 and nature.
 
 212 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 " After awhile I aroused myself and turned to descend 
 
 the steps again. Stop ! I require some refreshment. 
 
 In the excitement I had forgotten my appetite. 
 
 " I am quite hungry, and will keep open house now. 
 I shall have time enough to write presently. 
 
 " Two slices of bread, and six apples. I must divide 
 and portion my edibles. They will have to do me 
 until to-morrow noon, at least; and I must spare a few 
 crumbs for the sweet little red-breasted finch who has 
 invited himself so confidently to my board. 
 
 " They seem to taste wonderfully nice to the tame 
 little fellow. A wee shy titmouse would not join us, 
 but made very fine table music with his twittering. 
 
 " Now that hunger is appeased, I continue my narra- 
 tive. 
 
 " I was about to descend, when I started back with 
 fright. A terrific noise, of rumbling and crashing, w r as 
 heard, and the next moment I \vas enveloped in a cloud 
 of fine dust that almost suffocated me, while the old 
 walls trembled, and I thought the floor would certainly 
 give way under my feet. 
 
 " My first thought was that there had been an explo- 
 sion ; my next, that the tower was tumbling. I sank 
 to the floor, with my hands covering my face, and gave 
 myself up for lost. 
 
 " Everything soon became quiet. The cloud of dust 
 that had obscured my sight settled, and I crept towards 
 the steps. I would not remain another moment; I 
 wanted to get out of this place with all speed. 
 
 " Oh, heavens ! I gazed into a yawning gulf of black 
 dust, hovering like vapors over a volcanic crater, and 
 that was all I saw. The steps were gone ! I am a
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 213 
 
 prisoner up here for the night. If I had placed my 
 foot on the stairs but an instant before, I should now 
 be lying crushed and dead under the rotten lumber 
 dqwn there. Dreadful ! 
 
 " Dear Lord ! how I thank Thee for thy protecting 
 grace ! 
 
 " If the floor should give way ! No ; it is without a 
 cleft or crevice, gap or chasm. My fears gradually be- 
 came quieted : I experienced a feeling of elation. My 
 situation was singularly romantic. I had met with a 
 perilous adventure, a hair-breadth escape. I imagined 
 myself some enchanted princess in fairy-land. I fancied 
 I beheld the prince engaged in breaking a road through 
 the thicket, slaying here a growling lion, there some 
 other interfering animal, until he had cleared a passage 
 to my castle. 
 
 " I leaned over the parapet to point out the subter- 
 ranean entrance. Mercy ! what did I see ! 
 
 " The concussion resulting from the falling of the 
 stairs had shaken the loose mortar and fragments from 
 the pile of rubbish over the opening; the stone that 
 marked the place had fallen, and had been completely 
 covered from sight. 
 
 " I did not permit that to trouble me long. My de- 
 liverer could not reach me from the inner floor. Were 
 not the steps gone ? My liberation must necessarily be 
 effected in some other way. 
 
 " Fancy soon constructed a rope-ladder, that was 
 fastened securely above at one end, the other being 
 lowered to Albert. Who should the knight be but 
 Albert? Just as he was about to climb up to me, a 
 rustling, fluttering noise in the air warned us of the
 
 214 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 presence of the old wizard who held me prisoner. 
 Down he came stormily on his winged steed, and a 
 terrible battle ensued. Swords flashed fire, and sparks 
 flew from the armor at every blow. Youth and love 
 conquered. A powerful thrust from my knight cleft 
 the wizard's helmet ; his head rolled to the earth, his 
 wicked body instantly followed. 
 
 "My Albert mounted the winged steed, and in a mo- 
 ment I was in his arms. Away we went over woods 
 and meadows, hjlls and valleys, with the fleetness of an 
 arrow, until we gently halted on the dear old gable- roof, 
 and then before the door of the yellow house, where 
 we were received with shouts of welcome. 
 
 " Dreams, foolish dreams ; yet they beguiled the time, 
 until life in its reality forced itself upon me. I spread 
 out my arms towards home, towards the loving, beloved 
 ones there. Oh, if I only had wings ! 
 
 " To experience such romantic adventures as have 
 liappened me to-day is far more charming than reading 
 about them. 
 
 " The sun is sinking out of my world of romance, 
 suggesting a prosaic evening. 
 
 " The night will soon be here, the cold, dark, dismal 
 night in this awful wilderness, with its lonely moor, its 
 haunting spectres, that I have heard so many stories 
 about. 
 
 " Martha, show your courage. To-morrow will prove 
 whether your heart is that of a timid, silly girl. 
 
 " I console myself with the knowledge that I shall not 
 be troubled with undesirable visitors; I should be in 
 fear all night long if the stairs were there. I anticipate 
 no intruders. Be brave, heart, be brave; the autumn
 
 UNDER THE STORKS 1 NEST. 215 
 
 night is long, but it will come to an end. It will be 
 morning again. 
 
 "It is getting quite dark. Soon I shall be missed. 
 What will you think ? how will you dear, anxious ones 
 account for my absence? Forgive me, father, mother, 
 darling Albert, all you dear, dear ones that will suffer 
 for my foolish, inconsiderate curiosity. 
 
 " God comfort you and me this night, and grant us 
 a happy reunion to-morrow ! Good-night! good-night! 
 
 " Tuesday, October 14. With what bewitching love- 
 liness the moon lights up the beautiful earth, when, on 
 the arm of a loved one, we wander abroad in its silvery 
 beams! How dreadful, how shudderingly cold it looks 
 as it glides along the stellar dome, when one watches 
 it, as I did, in loneliness ! and such loneliness ! 
 
 "Ugh! How I shake with frost and damp! The 
 sun is so bright, I shall gratefully warm and dry myself 
 in its rays. I am stiff, and chilled in every limb. 
 
 " Oh, come, beloved ones, come, and deliver me from 
 this dismal place ! Poor, anxious hearts, what a night 
 you have endured for my sake ! How fortunate that I 
 told Captain von Kleist where I thought of going ! 
 They will ask him ; they will soon be here now ; they 
 will find their poor, forlorn child. I have had enough 
 of the romantic. Never, never more will I seek adven- 
 ture. This one night has cured me for all time of every 
 particle of enthusiastic extravagance. 
 
 "The sun set last night leaving such a splendid 
 golden glow ; yet I could not enjoy it, because the ravens 
 surrounded me so disagreeably ; at first only one, then 
 two, then more, until they formed an ugly cloud above 
 and around the tower, croaking and shrieking over me,
 
 216 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 as if they wanted to drive the disturbing intruder away. 
 This is evidently a resort for them before they betake 
 themselves to rest in the trees. It was very dismal to see 
 them hover together over me, then come down in a 
 body as if they meditated my destruction. Their cries 
 did not cease until long after dark. I expect they held 
 an indignant conclave over the disturber of their peace. 
 You can rest satisfied, you scolding tribe, to-night you 
 may have your old tower for yourselves, thank Heaven ! 
 
 "As the wind w r as chill and penetrating, I huddled 
 as far as possible into a corner, and thus was protected 
 somewhat from the air and cold. I closed my eyes, 
 determined to coax an early slumber to them ; but the 
 exciting events of the day, together with my strange 
 surroundings, and the cold, kept me awake. The wind 
 rustled through the trees mournfully enough; still, I had 
 expected that, and was prepared for all such sounds. 
 But what was that making those unearthly noises 
 through the rushing and rustling of the leaves ? One 
 moment it was groaning and moaning like some one in 
 mortal agony, then it was sobbing and sighing like a 
 woman in deepest sorrow. A crunching and crackling, 
 rattling and creaking, sounded everywhere. The boards 
 under my feet trembled as if some one were creeping 
 heavily along the floor. 
 
 "All around me was a continued whispering and 
 hissing, broken by the occasional startling shriek of 
 some raven, who, perhaps, dreamed he was losing his 
 equilibrium. On every side there were strange noises, 
 whistling, whispering, sighing; and, to be a truthful 
 historian, I must add that sniffling and snorting also 
 joined the chorus.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 17 
 
 " The wood sent up the voice of the thieving fox, 
 the deer softly whimpered, a startled creature now and 
 then gave vent to sounds thrilling and unfamiliar to my 
 acute hearing ; the marsh-bird's voice echoed its muf- 
 fled tones. The whole air vibrated with awful noises. 
 The night-wind carried from afar the doleful ' woo ! 
 woo !' of the nocturnal king of the feathered tribe. 
 Directly it sounded over my head, accompanied by a 
 wavering, fluctuating motion of the air. A dark object 
 rested immediately over me. Two fiery eyes were 
 staring at me so fiercely that the blood seemed turned 
 to ice in my veins. I leaped out of my corner, not in 
 bravery, but in terror, and, clutching a rock at my feet, 
 I sent it towards the balls of fire. When I looked 
 again, they were gone ; but all night the ugly owl re- 
 mained within hearing with its cry, 'woo! woo!' 
 
 " The moon shone clear and cold, but there was no 
 beauty or comfort either in it, or in the thousands of 
 stars that sparkled in the firmament. The face in the 
 moon seemed distorted with a hateful grin. I was so 
 cold by this time that I wrapped my shawl closely 
 about me and walked up and down on the platform, 
 keeping my blood in circulation in that way. Before 
 me, calm and quiet, lay the moor. What were those 
 forms moving among the firs along the borders, white 
 objects, clearly discernible as they passed between the 
 dark fir-stalks ? I started back with a shudder. Those 
 were the spirits and demons that are supposed to haunt 
 the moor nightly. ' Nonsense, Martha !' I exclaimed. 
 1 Crack-brained superstition. Imagine you see spirits ! 
 Absurd coward, Martha!' I lookel again. The white 
 objects were still there, but I laughed at my absurd 
 K 19
 
 218 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 fears. I could see what they were distinctly now : 
 only little white birch-trees between the dark bodies of 
 the firs ! 
 
 " At last, at last, the day began to dawn. How I 
 shivered ! The air grew sharper and colder ; and when 
 at last the welcome sun arose and scattered the dew, 
 and rent the nebulous veil that hung like a silvery mist 
 over all, I was completely covered with frost, and gladly 
 availed myself of his first warming rays. Oh, they 
 were so pleasant ! 
 
 " My watch tells me 'tis past noon. And Albert, 
 where is he ? Does he not know I long and wait ? Why 
 does he tarry ? For hours I have been sitting in this 
 spot, where I can see him the very instant he comes. 
 What care I for tl.e forest or the picturesque to-day? 
 I want to see my Albert, my dear ones at home. Like 
 the sister of Bluebeard's wife, I sit and ask myself, 
 'Sister Anna, what do you see?' Again and again 
 I reply, ' Nothing I nothing !' 
 
 " Why do you not come ? Oh, come, come ! The 
 sun is again sinking to rest, and I am still here. My 
 God! my God! not a soul in sight! Oh, if it were 
 the meanest beggar, how I would bless him ! I would 
 kiss his hands and feet, I would give him all I possess 
 on earth ! Oh, I long so for the face of some human 
 being ! 
 
 " A moment since, there was a rustling in the bushes. 
 My heart beat high with hope. I trusted it was some 
 one to whom I could make known my situation. I 
 looked and listened. It was only a shy little doe, that 
 gazed quickly and timidly about and disappeared be- 
 hind the to\\er. Perhaps it had fled from some hunter.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 219 
 
 I called and called until my voice was choked with sobs 
 and the tears I could no longer repress. 
 
 " O God ! merciful, gracious Father ! have pity on 
 your child ! Send help, oh, send me help ! 
 
 "Wednesday, October 15. Oh, this night! this 
 hideous, horrible night ! 
 
 " The sun went down in dull red, threatening clouds. 
 Not a star appeared. The moon was in sight occasion- 
 ally from between the heavy clouds that chased one 
 another angrily across the heavens, leaving all again 
 in sullen gloom as other still darker clouds obscured 
 its momentary light. A strong wind began to blow 
 directly after sunset, and soon roared fiercely through 
 the trees. The distant thunder rolled nearer and nearer. 
 A fearful storm prevailed. The old stone walls shook ; 
 I was afraid they would fall in. No, not afraid they 
 would fall : I hoped they would. I was so miserable, 
 down-hearted, and low-spirited, it was utterly indif- 
 ferent to me what might happen. I was stunned, 
 benumbed, stupefied ; I am so yet. The sun will not 
 shine for me to-day. Mother, father, Bernhard, Albert, 
 Uncle Thomas, have you all forgotten me? Oh, do 
 come to me, come and help me ! 
 
 " I heard a dog barking, and cried, cried for help. 
 In vain, all in vain, no one will hear me ! 
 
 " It has been raining for hours ; my clothes are drip- 
 ping wet and cling to my limbs; I am shivering with 
 cold. 
 
 " My God ! have you, then, forsaken me altogether ? 
 
 " It is getting dark again. Oh, the night is coming, 
 and why do you not come and save me, save me from 
 another night of horror, save me from distraction ? I
 
 220 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 have not had a bit of food or nourishment since yester- 
 day, yesterday at midday ; I am hungry, hungry ! 
 Do you know it ? Can you not hear me ? 
 
 " Oh, this is dreadful, dreadful ! A few miles from 
 here there are villages all around ; thousands of people 
 are there, and I am here alone and forsaken ! 
 
 " I call, but none answer ; I am hungry, and none 
 offer me a crumb from their abundance ; I suffer from 
 storm and cold, without a roof to cover me. Birds and 
 beasts have their protection : I, I alone am exposed to 
 wind and storm, helpless, forsaken, famishing. Must 
 I perish with cold and hunger ? 
 
 " Have mercy, thou almighty God ! Have compas- 
 sion on me. I am so young to die, life is so pleasant. 
 I will live ! I will ! Come and save me, save me 
 from insanity ! 
 
 "Thursday. I have not closed my eyes the live- 
 long night, not one sweet moment of oblivion to bless 
 and refresh me ; but I dreamed, wide awake I dreamed. 
 I am tired tired to death. Long tables stood before 
 me, covered with tempting food, and when I touched 
 it it turned to stone ! The trees were bowed down with 
 fruit, such luscious fruit! and when I reached out my 
 hand to take some, the boughs sprang with elastic force 
 up out of my reach ! It is nothing but rain and cold 
 and hunger, gnawing, tormenting hunger. My head is 
 burning, and yet I tremble and shiver with cold. My 
 cars ring and buzz, a hundred voices seem calling me 
 at once. 
 
 " You are all here, but I cannot touch you. My 
 thoughts are confused. Am I getting mad ? Oh, I am 
 so hungry, so cold ! Why do I not sleep ? Sleep has
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 221 
 
 forsaken my burning eyes. I know why you do not 
 come to me : the gypsy-girl came to me last night and 
 whispered in my ear, ( Do you remember ? 
 
 1 ' Thy humble lot cherish : shouldst leave it in gride, 
 Then ruin goes with thee, death stands at thy side.' 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! ruin came in with me through that 
 dark passage; death was at my side when I so 
 proudly came up here. It has not left, and you cannot 
 drive it away. You will not find me till I am dead. 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! that will be merry ! 
 
 "I believe I am getting crazy ! All is confusion in 
 my brain. 
 
 " That old raven is here again. He is sitting on the 
 wall yonder, and blinks at me with his black, flashing 
 eyes as soberly and thoughtfully as a doctor when 
 feeling the pulse of his patient. Go away ! Begone, 
 you monster ! Shoo ! shoo ! 
 
 " He will be back directly, to inquire about the state 
 of my health. Bring me some bread, -j ust one little bite ! 
 
 "' Sister Anna, do you see anything?' ' Nothing, 
 nothing, but sky and forest.' 
 
 " Suppose I dash myself down through the stairway ? 
 What would it avail me ? I cannot get out. 
 
 " There goes my hat, the wind has taken it away. 
 See how merrily he flies and turns, rejoicing in his free- 
 dom, in his release from this lonesome tower ! He rolls 
 and tumbles from bush to bush, stopping now and then 
 to kiss a stone, to hug the earth for happiness. I had 
 to laugh for him, to see how gleefully he enjoyed his 
 freedom. Alas! and I can laugh, with lamentations 
 quivering through every sense of feeling. I am in such 
 
 19*
 
 222 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 trouble trouble ! I did not think it possible a human 
 being could endure so much. 
 
 " My hat is right under the wall here. I wanted to 
 catch it. I dashed my shawl after it, and was about to 
 follow, when I saw Albert at my side, holding out his 
 arms to me, saying, ' Martha ! my dear, sweet Martha !' 
 
 " I turned. Everything grew dark before me. In 
 the place of his arm I fell to the floor. Oh, Albert ! 
 where are you ? 
 
 " The rain, the cold rain, awakened me. My forehead 
 is bleeding : my limbs pain me. I am so hungry, so 
 cold ! My shawl is hanging on the branches out of my 
 reach. My God ! my God ! must I die alone in this 
 horrible place ? Oh, have compassion, have mercy on 
 me ! hear, oh, hear me, Father, God ! 
 
 "Friday. No more hope none! none! and no 
 more hunger. Nothing but dreams ; such beautiful 
 dreams ! such hideous, fearful dreams ! Why must I 
 awaken again and again, wake from such sweet 
 dreams and find myself here? I write with diffi- 
 culty : it is tiresome. My head is confused, and I ache 
 all over ; there is such pain in every limb, pain, pain, 
 pain, all over. I am so sore and stiff I cannot rise. I 
 can scarcely move. 
 
 " Yesterday I wrote on some of the leaves of my book 
 and threw them over the wall; they will tell you where 
 to find me. I am so weak I cannot throw any more 
 over : the wind will carry them for me. Take me to 
 thee, O God ! take my soul, release me from this pain 
 and horror. 
 
 " The raven is here, and I cannot drive him away ; he 
 is waiting for my death. Oh, pity, pity, Lord ! let it
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 223 
 
 come soon. Why do I linger and linger in such tor- 
 ment ? Surely it must soon be over. Farewell, dearest 
 father, mother, sweet, good mother, sister, brother, 
 Uncle Thomas, and you, my love, my Albert, farewell ! 
 Forgive the grief I will soon be over I will be free. 
 We will meet again will meet again. I am so sleepy. 
 
 Farewell, fare 
 
 " Saturday. Not dead yet ! The ravens, the ravens ! 
 drive them away ! away ! away ! To be living and yet 
 be dead ! The heavens are full of angels. Dear ones, 
 you are all here all here with me at last. Where is 
 Albert? Give me your hand, mother; it is getting 
 dark. Death calls me ! Welcome ! welcome ! Fare- 
 well !" 
 
 Hearts are not easily broken, or the heart of that 
 wretched father would have burst with anguish as he 
 read the terrible lines and comprehended the dying 
 struggles of his child, whose bleached remains were over 
 in that corner, the awful skull with its vacant stare 
 and grin seeming to follow his every motion. 
 
 Tortured, martyred ; but he did not die, his heart did 
 not break. Death does not come to those who invite 
 him ; he does not walk over the threshold like a bidden 
 guest. He creeps in unawares, and takes what suits 
 him, not what is offered. The agonized father leaned 
 his arms on the wall and gazed over the moor, his soul 
 uttering his lamentations over his daughter! 
 
 " My sweet, innocent child ! pure of heart and free 
 of spirit ! would I could have died for you ! My dar- 
 ling ! my best-beloved ! And have we not all endured
 
 224 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 for your sake ? Light and happiness departed with you ; 
 sorrow and sickness and death have taken your place in 
 the old house ; the fate of so many blighted ; death, 
 murder, disgrace, resulted from your absence. Shall 
 the fatality cease only when there is no longer an object 
 of our love to destroy ? My house a place of mourning, 
 my heart a withered husk ! Oh, my unhappy, stricken 
 wife! This also must be borne." 
 
 The men returned. Horst came up the ladder with 
 a coffin on his shoulders. The father directed him to 
 place it beside the skeleton, saying, " None shall touch 
 thee but thy father, Martha." 
 
 He stooped to remove it. At the first touch the ob- 
 ject fell together with a rattling sound: the skull rolled 
 upon the floor at his feet. 
 
 He threw up his arms with a pitiful groan, and would 
 have fallen had not his son supported him. 
 
 This last had been too much for his endurance : he 
 had fainted. 
 
 When he returned to consciousness, the remains of his 
 unfortunate child had been removed. 
 
 August and Martha rest beside Matilda. 
 
 The lonely old people in the gable-house live on.
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 TIME passes swiftly to the happy. To the restless, 
 grief-stricken heart, the moments seem like hours. 
 
 The years brought to the inhabitants of the quiet 
 homestead their measure of healing. The last sad event 
 had robbed them of every tie that chained their hearts 
 to earth. They looked to the future beyond the grave, 
 and waited for the reunion with the resigned patience 
 which sorrow and trouble had taught them. 
 
 Uncle Thomas had ceased to hope for the pleasure of 
 having nephews' children climbing on his lap and riding 
 on his wooden leg; but, w y hen the gout permitted, he 
 would travel across the street and sit for hours in the 
 gable-house. Together the three old folks passed the 
 time, reviewing the past in a cheerful, peaceful manner. 
 
 Uncle Thomas had been unfortunate in a recent 
 venture as a matchmaker. He gave Albert no rest 
 until he had laid his hand and heart at the feet of 
 Augusta, who, since her husband's death, resided near 
 them again. Albert received a polite but decided 
 refusal, and Uncle Thomas indulged in the most out- 
 rageous profanity. Having relieved himself comfort- 
 ably, he settled down, retaining his wooden leg for the 
 service it had done, not for the delight he had once 
 anticipated in its possession. 
 
 Mrs. Berndal was failing. The two watchful old 
 gentlemen saw it plainly. All her thoughts were in- 
 
 K*
 
 226 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 terested in putting her house in order, preparatory to 
 taking the long journey. 
 
 Poor Mina, grown old in the service of her kind 
 mistress, wept night and day. The husband comforted 
 and encouraged his wife, and endeavored to drive out 
 of her mind the thoughts that seemed so bent on death. 
 Uncle Thomas talked, and swore, and grumbled to 
 himself; but Mrs. Berndal's health failed nevertheless, 
 until she had not strength to leave her bed. 
 
 One morning quite early she raised herself, as if. the 
 night had granted .sudden vigor, and, waking her hus- 
 band, she exclaimed, " Ferdinand, Ferdinand ! Listen, 
 listen ! What is that noise ?" 
 
 " I do not hear anything. What shall I listen to, 
 Lottie ?" 
 
 " Only hark a moment ! hark ! There ! do you not 
 hear ? The storks have come back ! The storks ! the 
 storks ! They are rattling and clattering on the roof!" 
 
 " Yes, I hear them, Lottie, I hear them." 
 
 As quickly as possible the judge dressed himself, and 
 hastened into the garden, to obtain a view of the roof. 
 High up on the chimney stood two storks, once more 
 taking observations, and clattering their great beaks, 
 as if in consultation and thoughtfully viewing the 
 country before beginning to build. Overjoyed, he re- 
 turned to the house. 
 
 " You were right : the storks have returned, and 
 are standing on the old chimney with architectural 
 importance ; they are going to build again !" 
 
 " Storks on the roof bring blessings to the house," 
 murmured his wife; "but what blessing can they bring 
 us?"
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 227 
 
 " Your health ! You will be restored to me, Lottie ; 
 together we will enter the Valley of Promise/' ten- 
 derly replied the judge, kissing her. 
 
 Mrs. Berndal began to improve from that day, and 
 when the birds of luck prepared to migrate in the fall, 
 she stood in the garden smiling and cheerful, saying, 
 " A pleasant journey to you," without a doubt of their 
 return. 
 
 . Great preparations were being made : the house was 
 in commotion ; young and old friends gathered under 
 the gable-roof in honor of the wedding, the jubilee. 
 
 It was a bright morning in November, the golden 
 wedding-day of Judge Berndal and his wife. 
 
 They were sitting at the breakfast-table, andMina had 
 just presented an offering of a bouquet of fresh flowers. 
 The speech studied with so much care would not flow from 
 her trembling lips ; she stuttered a word or two, sounding 
 like, " Dear mistress, may you you " then, throw- 
 ing her clean white apron over her tearful face, she ran 
 out of the room. 
 
 Mrs. Berndal's eyes were fastened on the flowers in an 
 absent gaze, her face beaming with contentment. Her 
 husband asked, 
 
 " Lottie, where are you tarrying so peacefully? Come 
 back to me, wife, and pass the sugar this way. Shall 
 I drink my coffee without sweetening for the first time 
 in our fifty years of married life?" 
 
 " Pardon me," said she, passing the bowl to him. "I 
 was carried back, far, far back into the happy past, by 
 the fragrant blossoms, and I was thinking of my dream 
 last night. Such a happy dream, Ferdinand !" 
 
 The judge pressed her hand lovingly, as he said,
 
 228 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 " Fifty years ago to-day you promised to share joy and 
 sorrow with me, let me share the happiness of this 
 dream." 
 
 " What I promised then I will reiterate to-day, even 
 as you have been true and faithful for fifty years. I 
 will relate my dream. 
 
 " I thought I was walking in a beautiful garden ; 
 the ground was covered with velvety moss, and every- 
 where there were blossoming plants that perfumed the 
 air. Trees bore fruit that glistened like jewels, birds 
 were singing so sweetly it was enchanting to listen. Oh, I 
 cannot describe the beauty and soul-charming splendor 
 of that garden ! I was wondering why I alone occu- 
 pied and enjoyed it, when I observed advancing to- 
 wards me four forms robed in some strange shining 
 material ; their faces were glorified with a light not of 
 earth. But I knew them; he, our first-born, was in the 
 strength of. manhood, but I knew him by his soulful 
 eyes, that looked at me from his little crib so longingly 
 the day he died; and Matilda, Martha, and August 
 were with him. I held them in my arms, and they 
 rested against my heart, and each gave me a spray of 
 oran ge-blossoms . 
 
 " And see, Ferdinand, in this bouquet there are also 
 four sprays. Is it not singular ? 
 
 " But I cried so bitterly, and our boy said to me, 
 'Little mother, do not cry; dry your tears, and weep 
 no more for us. We are happy, and we are always 
 with you, even if you do not see us ; and when you are 
 sad we are also sad, and when you weep we must weep 
 also.' 
 
 " Then I said, ' I will not be sad any more.' And I
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 229 
 
 looked around for Bernhard, but could not find him. 
 'Why did not you bring Bernhard?' I asked. 
 
 " 'Bernhard is not here,' they said. 
 
 " I turned around, and there you were with Bernhard, 
 leading him to me by the hand; you were both clad 
 in the garments of earth, and you said, as I clasped 
 my boy iu my arms, 'Here, mother, I bring you the 
 lost son.' Then I awoke. 
 
 " Do you know now why I am so blessed to-day ? 
 I have you and all my lost ones with me ; the picture 
 is so real I shall take it home to God with me. It 
 will be soon, Ferdinand ; then we will be a united, 
 happy family for all time." 
 
 A bearded, sunbrowned man entered one of the city 
 portals just as the bells of a familiar house of worship 
 rang out their merry welcoming chimes. " Come, wel- 
 come; come, welcome," they seemed to sing in happy 
 greeting to this weary traveler. Long years of absence, 
 perils, and longings were swept from his memory as 
 the sound of their music carried him out of the present 
 into a vista whose avenue he had not traversed since 
 boyhood. 
 
 Involuntarily his footsteps led him to the old edifice, 
 as if in answer to the salutation "Come, welcome; 
 come, welcome" of its bells. 
 
 Carriages were standing before it; people were enter- 
 ing in crowds ; and, prompted by an irresistible impulse, 
 the stranger followed. 
 
 The organist was playing a low, sweet prelude that 
 seemed to awaken emotions in the breast of the man 
 and bring the tears to his eyes. He covered them with 
 
 20
 
 230 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 his hand. His bosom rose and fell with the pulsations 
 of his rapidly beating heart. 
 
 The people around him knew him not ; and yet they 
 may have been dear friends in youth. No glance of 
 recognition met his gaze. Change, change everywhere. 
 Oh, the tormenting waste of years that had isolated 
 him from home and love since first he had entered 
 here, led by the hand of his mother ! 
 
 Where were they all, his mother, the friends and 
 companions of his joyous boyhood? 
 
 Dead, perhaps ! In this throng of people he had no 
 interest; no touch of fellowship tendered him its silent 
 sympathy; and yet his homesick heart was rested and 
 calmed by the soothing charm of sacred sympathy. 
 
 A child seated at its mother's side in front of him 
 whispered something about a golden bouquet; but what 
 was that to him ? Then the organ played a wedding- 
 march ; the child rose to its feet in the pew, saying, 
 " Now, mamma, they are going to be married again. 
 Oh, do see what a pretty golden wreath Mrs. Berndal 
 has on her hair! And the judge has a golden one 
 on his bosom !" 
 
 The man stooped over and touched the lady on the 
 arm : he was excited and pale ; he asked, wildly, " Who, 
 who, madam, are those old people at the altar?" 
 
 " Judge Berndal and lady, sir." 
 
 " My father ! my mother !" he cried, in so loud a tone 
 that people turned around indignant at the disturbance. 
 Without paying the least attention, he rose, and pressed 
 through the crowd that filled the passages to the altar, 
 until he 'found himself near them. 
 
 The ceremony over, the friends of the wedded pair
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 231 
 
 gathered around them. The man went up to the min- 
 ister and addressed him. 
 
 " Sir, I am Judge Berndal's son. I have just re- 
 turned home, after long years of captivity in Africa. 
 I witnessed the ceremony just now by the merest acci- 
 dent. I pray, I beg you, prepare my parents for my 
 unexpected return." 
 
 Surprised beyond measure, the old minister at last 
 recognized him, and, bidding him enter the sacristy, 
 joyfully promised to prepare his friends for the meeting 
 with their son Bernhard. 
 
 Directly they came in, arm-in-arm, to get their 
 wrappings, followed by their more intimate friends. The 
 minister said, impressively, taking a hand of each, 
 
 "Praise ye the Lord, for He is mighty, and His 
 mercy endureth forever. 
 
 " Praise Him in this hour, for He has manifested 
 His loving care and rewarded your patient endurance 
 of the sorrows He has seen fit to place upon you. He 
 has tried you in sorrow that ye may be strong in joy. 
 
 " I cannot say to the dead, Rise ! But, thanks be to 
 God, I can say to you, Father, mother, weep no more. 
 Your son lives. Bernhard will be restored to you. 
 
 " My son lives ! My son ! Oh, where is he ?" 
 Mrs. Berndal exclaimed, while those around listened in 
 sympathetic astonishment. 
 
 The minister led the mother to a sofa, saying, "I 
 have news of him." And a moment later Judge Berudal 
 came to her leading Bernhard. 
 
 " Here, mother, is your son."
 
 232 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 
 
 The gable house is ringing with joyful voices once 
 more. Uncle Thomas hourly congratulates himself on 
 the failure of his first and last match-making project. 
 
 His prompting was not required in the match between 
 the two long-separated lovers; and when in due season 
 the storks left a wee human bud in the arms of the 
 happy couple, Uncle Thomas immediately began to 
 buckle extra fine straps to the wooden leg, in anticipa- 
 tion of at last "realizing a decent use of the old peg," 
 as he was wont to say in gleeful accents. 
 
 The garden is fragrant with shrub and blossom, the 
 arbor is overrun with foliage and vines, this charming 
 summer evening; and within its shady bower are 
 gathered, around the table, a happy group, waiting for 
 the important toddler that approaches in the guardian- 
 ship of faithful Mina. 
 
 Grandma is preparing his supper of milk and biscuit 
 with such satisfaction as only grandmas can experience. 
 Grandpa appears to have renewed his youth in watching 
 this namesake of himself, this idolized grandchild. 
 
 Of course his parents are very proud of him; but 
 sum up all the worship of the household, it is not to 
 be compared to the unbounded adoration and devotion 
 lavished on him by Uncle Thomas, who hourly promises 
 to abstain from profanity, if it takes him all the rest of 
 his life to bring about the desired result. 
 
 Mrs. Berndal passes the fragrant coffee. Uncle 
 Thomas sips the scalding Mocha hastily, and exclaims, 
 
 impatiently, "Ugh! thunderation ! it's hot as " but 
 
 looks sheepishly at little Freddy before the sentence is 
 finished. This small monitor holds his spoon up in 
 warning, and lisps,
 
 UNDER THE STORKS' NEST. 233 
 
 "Uncle Thomas naughty! spank-urn." 
 Augusta admonishes her son not to be bold; but the 
 old gentleman limps over and lifts him on to his knee, 
 and soon, he is riding to some foreign land, beyond 
 mamma's reproaches, on that serviceable wooden horse. 
 When the little man wishes to alight, and his request 
 is not immediately obeyed, he shouts, "Down, thunder 
 you, down !" Then Uncle Thomas hangs his head, and 
 registers another vow never to swear again, while cogi- 
 tating on the wisdom of the author who wrote, "Evil 
 communications corrupt good manners." 
 
 And Freddy runs into the garden, and halloos to 
 those long-billed, long-legged luck-birds on the chim- 
 ney, 
 
 " Oh, stork, stork, you Esther, 
 Fetch me a little sister !" 
 
 The stork gazes in meditative wisdom down into the 
 nest where his mate broods over her young, and then 
 on to the gable-roof, beneath the protection of which joy 
 and peace abound, and hope betides. 
 
 THE END.
 
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