THE PRIEST'S STORY.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXI, Issue 3, 15 December 1893, Page 21

THE PRIEST'S STORY.

With a heart filled with pleasurable emotions I took tbs Rhine steamer to Cologne. My destination was Ober-Lahnstein, wbere I hoped to Bpend a few days, making excursions to the Stoolzenfels, Erne, Nassau, and the romantic neighbourhood of the river Lahn. 1 bad amoog my letters of introduction ooe from my bishop, recommending me to the kind attention of Father Backer, the venerable pastor of Cappellen. This I determined to present immediately upon my arrival. My bishop had given me an elcqaent description of the old gentleman. They had been classmates at Borne, and after their ordination Father Bucker was sent to bis native village as assistant pastor, while Dr C returned to America, became pastor at Arlington, where, af er twenty-five years of watchful care over a numerous flock, he was translated to the bishopric of Delaware. On the arrival of the steamer at Lahnstein, I took the ferry to Cappellen, on the opposite baDk of the Bhine, and in a few minutes stood at the door of the old priest's house. My km ck was answered by an old lady in a white cap, who. in answer to my inquiry, informed me that her brother, Father Bucker, was quite ill, but would, of course, see me, and, leading me to his room, I stood unannounced at the bedside of the good German priest. He was propped up by pillows in a sitting position, and, seeing by my dress that I was a clergyman, he at once made me welcome. I delivered my letter from Bisbop C— — . On reading it, the tears started to the old priest's eyes, and he asked me a hundred questions rega.diag the health of my bishop, and about the Church in America, and the incidents of my voyage. 1 fonnd him a most pleasant and agreeable gentleman, although suffering terribly from rheumatism, an attack of which had brought him to his present condition. He, nevertheless, was a msrry and entertaining host. He ordered his sister to prepare the spare room for me, and, as an earnest of bis hospitality, be had a bottle of Bhine wine placed on the table, some splendid home-made cheese, md grapes served for luncheon. " The grapes from which this wine was made grew within a stone's throw of this bouse," said Miss Frederics, whose kind old face seemed to glow with pleasure at my expressing a preference for the light wines of the Bbine. Tbe three houri before dinner passed a way pleasantly. The cottage stood on the very edge of the river, tbe steamers and light craft passing up and down, and now and then a great raft with its village of huts in the centre, and peopled by dozens of men, women, and children, made the view from the priest's bedroom « gay and animated eight. " The captivity enforced by this plague, rheumatism, is Icbs irksome from tbe fact that this window affords an uninterrupted view, both up and down the Bhine, for many mile?, and here I sit and watch tbe river craft with their bright and fairy-like c nvcs. At tiraec," 6aid the priest, " I c»n count as many as forty and fifty sail. Gome, Bika, let us give our guest a regular German dinner." When I returned from my room, where I retired to arrange my dresp, I found the old gentleman seated in a little room that served as library, study, and dimng-saloon. He had made a desperate effort, and, though in much pain, determined to appear at dinner in honour of tbe " Amerikaner priest," as be jocosely called me. After dinner pipes were in order and, while watching the moke ascending from our meerchauma, stories and incidents of our priest-

hood became topios of our conversation. "It U over twentj ye»n ago," Mid my host, when I wu awakened one night to go to a sick call. " A little girl, daughter of Heinrich Fink, the inn-keeper, came to oar door, saying her father had seat her to beg me to harry at once to the tavern, that a stranger lay dying, and that the priest's services would be more required than the physician's. Hastily throwing on my ' oberrock, 1 1 followed the child into Heinrich's ' gaethans.' " H« met me at the door, and in a few brief sentences told me that the lick man only arrived that afternoon, and after partaking of a glass of wine and a pretsel, he deposited a package of letters and a pocket-wallet filled with money— notes and silver—and, bidding the landlord good-night, bad gone to bed ; that some two hoars after groans and cries were beard in the stranger's room. " On opening the door the poor man was found in great agony. Bis only answer to the kind inquiries as to what could be done for Dim was to send for a priest. 11 1 never saw snob a sad spectacle as the man pretented, •tretched fall length in the bed, a large and powsrfully-built man, bis hair tangled and nutted over his eyes, his massive frame shaking with agony. ° I suspected suicide, and we searched the room for some evidence of the case, bat discovered nothing to show an attempt at selfdestruction. I ordered Heinrich to bring some brandy, and with great difficulty tbe poor fellow swallowed it. For • moment he ceased to toss in pain— slowly be opened his great black eyes— and waving his hand to Heinricb to leave the room, spoks or gasped oat, as follows :— " ' Ob, Father, lam glad yon are here. I have much to say to you. Are w« alone V " ' Yes,' I said, awraringly. •' • Well,' he said, while his eyes gave out a moßt naearthly glare, 1 1 am a banted man, bunted by visions of her who fell by my hand. lam a murderer — a double murderer I Ten years ago I was leading actor at tbe Boyal Theatre at Hanau— the favourite of the Grand Duk -, and the star of tbe Rhine provinces.' ' " ' Tell me your name, my son,' said I. " • Not yet, good Father— not yet. At Hanau I fell in love with a girl attached to the theatre — she was as pure as an angel — an orphan. Her fatber having been for years tbe bandmaster, at bis death the company at the theatre adopted her, and sbe waa making rapid strides towards a proud position in the profession when I first met her. '"We acted many nights together. She played Juliet to my Borneo, Goethe's heroine Margaret to my Fausf. Well, Father, this artlew, poor cbild won my heart, and sbe loved me too—she told me so. 11 • We had arranged secretly to become man and wife on her reaching twenty. She was not yet nineteen. " ' My professional duties took me to Cologne. DuriDg my absence her letters were loving and trustful, " ' I was happy then. " ' The very secret of our love, for no one knew of our attachment, was io itself a charm, and I thought with pride of the hour when I could present the darling before the world as my wife. " ( One d»y while at Cologne I received a letter from Lena, for that was her name, in which the spoke of the great success of a play written by a very young officer of Dragoons at Coblentz, that, as her aating had contributed so much to tbe general success, the young lieutenant desired to present her with a bracelet, and she wished to know if I bad any objection to htr receiving it, •' I consented that sbe should accept it, though at tbe time I had some misgivings as to the propriety of tbe act. "'" ' From th«t hour it seamed as if she had changed in her feelings towards me. Her letters grew less frequent, and tha pure and tender tone formerly so characteristic of her nature seemed wanting. " ' Christmas was approaching, and I bad promised myself the pleasure of spending that day with Lena. I communicated my intention to her. Her reply to my letter suggested that it was long journey to make, and that she bad a new part to study, and it did not, in fact, express the least desire to see me. <• < The coldness of her letter stung me. I felt that another had taken my place in her affections. '''That night I paced my room almost frantic with jealousy. I tbew myself on the bed only to rise again, for sleep had deserted me. That right I made a vow that, should my suspicions prove trap, I would kill her ; and as daylight appeared through my window*, I repeated my oath, that she should die, and by my hand. " * On Christmas Eve, under pretence of a desire of study and privacy, I told my landlord that I would keep my room for a day or two. and did not wish to be disturbed. I ordered some biscuits and a few bottles of wine to be sent to my apartment. •• 'The mumeot the waiter left my room I hastily put on my disguise — I shaved off my moustache, put on a brown wig, and as my professional skill came to my aid, and I was completely metamorphosed.

I then locked the door, and gaining the street, at once made for the railway station. " ' I was just in time to take tbe train for Coblenls. " ' My companions in the third -clasß compartment were farmers and cattleraisers, who had been at Cologne making purchases for their Christmas holiday, and their simple merriment and happy conversation made my poor heart sink within me. " ' The honest people were happy, while I sat there a miserable, broken-hearted man, with premeditated murder on my soul. " ' Just as they were lighting the lamps I stepped from the train in the station at Coblentz. " ' At tbe same moment several military officers alighted from the first-class carriages, among them a tall, handsome young cavalry man. " ' Instinctively I felt that this man was my rival. " ' At once monnting tbe horse held in wait for them by their orderlier, these officers rode away. " ' My curses followed them, and scarcely knowing why I did so I sauntered towards a•' Bierhalle " and entered it. The waiters, to whom I was well known, never suspected that in the sad-looking beavy-laden man I then presented, was concealed the favourite actor* of the Rhine provinces. Calling for a glass of beer and the Zeitung, my eyes fell en a theatrical announcement for the evening. At the Stadt Theatre Fraulein Lena, as tbe Baronne in Graft von Hater's new play, " The Venetian Bride." " I shall be there to-night, and for tbe last time will see this base, disloyal Lena," murmured I to myßelf. •• ' It wanted but an hour before the opening of the theatre, io I wandered towards the Augusta B trass, and, placing myself in a dark doorway opposite her lodgings, watched the lights in her windows. " ' Coming from the Bierhalle I passed many of my professional friends, but so complete was my disguise that I was not recognised ; and now I was watching at her window, the most sorrowful reflections filled my mind. " ' How often bad I called there to accompany her to the theatre I And after tbe play would see her home, and at that very door would she renew her promise of love. While I was thus employed a coupee stopped at Lena's door, and the officer I had met at tbe station alighted, and with a latch-key entered tbe house. " ' My first impulse was to follow him and kill them both. No, she at least must die, nor must I be known as the perpetrator of the deed. The last train left for Cologne at 11.15. If I could manage to catch that train I should be in my own room before daylight, and throwing off my disguise it would appear as if I had not left my apartments. '■ ' While thus determining my mode or action Lena and her military escort appeared, aad in a moment were driven off in the direction of the theatre. " ' Tbe bells from the towers of the cburches wore ringing out the holy sounds that seemed to tell of peace on earth and good-will to all men. " ' The streets were all crowded with throngs of women aud children, peering into the shop-windows, decorated with evergreens and toyß, all indicating Cbristmas time, while I made my way to tbe theatre, and, purchasing a ticket, took a seat in the stalls. " ' Tne enrtain bad just risen, and Lena as the Baronne, had just entered from the church, followed by a procession of bridesmaids. I watched her glar cc at one of the private boxes. It fell on the sole occupant, the young officer of dragoons. He threw a kiss from his gloved band. " ' Oh, the agony of that moment I Jealousy, rage, hate, despair, and murder all seemed to possess me. Daring tbe entire performance, which lasted too long hours, she constantly signalled to her admirer from the stage, and after each act he would leave the box and visit her. " ' This so increased my rage and mortification that from time to time I was forced to seek the open air of tbe street. Tbe play ended, I posted myself where I could see Lena as she left tbe theatre. I looked at my watch. It was exactly eleven. In fifteen minutes tbe train left for Cologne. I must fulfil my oath within the next quarter of an hour. While I was thus deliberating, Lena and the officer left the stage door, and entering the carriage, I heard him direct his coachman to drive to the Schwarz Alder, a noted restaurant and caf6 in the Kopal Platz, and but a few squares from the theatie. "' I followed— saw them enter. I entered the drinking hall and presently heard the landlord order one of the waiters to go upstairs and wait on the Graf v"on Huber. The room became crowded with people from the theatre, and amid the driokers I soon managed to Blip unperceived through the side door leading to tbe restaurant. ' * I met the waiter ascending the stairs to tbe private room occupied by Lena and her lover. Telling him I wanted to have a glance at the great actress, and giving him it couple of thalere, he exchanged his apron and jacket for my coat and ha ( , and giving me the bill of fare, told me to take the order for supper, saying be would wait at tbe end of tbe stairs uutil my return,

" ' On my tapping at the door the Count bade me enter. " ' They were teated side by Bide in loving con versa. " ' While the officer glanced over the list of wines, I, nnder pretence of arranging the table, nnperceived. placed a pinch of white powder in their glasses. " ' The officer ordered a bottle of Rudeeheimer, and with an insolent air commanded me to hasten . "' At the foot of the stairs I found the Kelner waiting and returned him his apron and jacket for my coat and bat. He let me into the street, and in five minutes I was in the train and on my way to Cologne. "'Next morning the good people of Cobleatz were horrified at | the news cf the double suicide at the Schwartz Alder. " ' It waa given out that the Graf von Huber and the actress Lena had taken strychnine and died almost ids antaneously. " " At this point of the man's story (continued the priest) the sound of boraea' feet and the clanging of spars and sabres were heard in the little street A moment more and two soldiers, followed by Eeimicb, the landlord, rushed into the room. " At seeing the military, the man gave a wild yell, while they \ proceeded to handcuff him. 1 " ' So we have found you at last,' said the elder of the two. "' Do not be a'armed, Father,' said the sergeant, addressing me, j 'he is perfectly secure now. This spell will soon pass off, and for , months he will be rational enough. He escaped from the lunatic i asylum at Frankfort this afternoon ; we tracked him to the Rhine packet steamer, and there lost track of him ; but the ferryman at ; Lahnatein said that a passenger o( his description crossed the Capelieu to-day, so here we are.' "'What have you done with the money, Gotliebb ?' said the •ergeant, " ' Curse you 1 Don't speak to me,' replied the man, in bitter ■gony. " ' When he came here to-day he gave me a packet of papers and j pocket-book filled with notes for safe keeping,' eaid the landlord. "' Stolen from the superintendent's desk,' replied the sergeant. 1 You see, Father, he was formerly a druggist's clerk in Coblen'z ; ' fell in love with an actress; annoyed the lady wih his addresses, j and persisted in his rudeness, till at length ehe appealed to the ' authorities for his arrest, as he had threatened her violence. This I drove him mad. He believes be has killed her, and at times tells the most fearful lies — of having poisoned her and her lover in a ' restaurant. All a fiction sir. For the past year he has been quite rational, and they entrustel him wiih some light duties in the superintendent's ( ffice ; but to-day he broke into the deputy's desk and stole bis pocket-book and papers But we have our mm, Come, Gotliebb.' ' — Exchange.