CLAUS WEIDE'S PIPE;

Patea Mail, Volume IX, Issue 1103, 24 October 1883, Page 2

CLAUS WEIDE'S PIPE;

A. Legend ol tlxe Grave. By D. W. C. Nesfield. Maiblucmchen blushed, and said ho was an impertinent fellow, but, although she smiled ns he left her, and watched him go up the street, a little pain came into her heart ns she remembered the cloud upon Valentin’s face. **# * . * About a week or ten days after Yal had told Elise his dream, they were walking together in the pleasant evening by the river bank : * Sec how madly the swallows are darting after the flies near the water, Yal !’ cried Elise,-* Does that mean rain or a storm, du finst rer traunger Yunge du * I am not sad or moody, either, Lischon. Yes I I think it means a storm, and a pretty heavy one, too. See, even now the clouds are gathering, and the big drops are beginning lo fall. It was my fault not to have noticed it. Let us hurry home.’ Maiblucmchen would have rather liked the fun of getting a little wet, but Yal was obdurate, so holding on to his arm, she almost ran up the hill, in order to keep pace with his long strides. * Yon hurry home, too, Val,’ she said as she reached her door. * It’s the new moon, and that is generally when the weather changes. It has been so sultry all day, I shouldn’t wonder if we had thunder, and that always makes me so afraid. I always think of the judgment day and the bodies rising from their graves.’ Val was deathly pale, bin she did not notice it, as she tripped in and bade him good night.

The cloud on his face had been deepening every day lately, and ho carried his dream with him as a load, that grew daily heavier. Val did not go straight home, although the big drops wore coming down in earnest now. He did not seem to notice the wet, but strode on, looking neither to the right and left, until he reached the “ Gasthaus Zum Hascn.”. ‘ Here’s V'al 1’ cried a number of jonng fellows nil together, who were seated aronnd a table with their singing books open; ‘You’re just in time; we want another first tenor, for Toulle here does not know the * Drei Yaegcr.’ Come on, Yal, it’s a wet night, and we can sing until the Polizdstunde, three good hours yet..’ ‘ Not to-night, boys,’ said Yal; ‘ I’m in no mood to sing, and besides, I must go home.’ Then turning to mine host of the “ Haro,” he said : ‘ Herr Hasenwirth, give mo a bottle of the best brandy that yon have. My mother is subject to attacks of colic lately, and I wish to have some in the house on her account.’ As he marched out with the bottle under his arm without even saying good night to his companions, ; they paused for a moment as if one and nil felt there was something wrong, which they did not understand. At last, Ton’le, the joiner; broke the silence and said : * I wonder what alls Val Bremer lately. He looks so stern and sad. If this comes of being in love, I hope I may die heart whole. Besides, I never heard of his mother having colic. Only last Sunday she was felling Frau Gottheil that she had not had an ache or a pain in twenty years ! ’ And then they went on with their singing. * * # * »

It was, indeed, a fearful night, for although the rain abated somewhat about eleven o’clock, the thunder peals from time to time, which followed the dazzling sheets of lightning, were evidence that the storm was far from over. The Nockar was already swollen, turbid and muddy, and no trace of the original gutters was visible in the streets, as sheets of water swept down the hill of Berg into the river. Valentino’s mother had retired early and he bade her not be frightened at the storm, which he assured her, would be over before morning, ‘ Frightened, Val, !’ she replied, ‘I have held you in my arms as a baby on many a worse night than this and yon never woke up. The Bremers and Weides are made of better stuff than to be scared at n storm when the good God sends one. Good-night, and pleasant dreams, my son I Yon want rest, for you have looked overworked and tired of late.” About half past eleven Val peeped into bis mother’s room. She was sleeping soundly. Going back to bis own

little room he rumpled the bedclothes, drew a spade and pick from under the bed, also an old-fashioned lantern and then, filling a large flask with brandy, and taking o draught first, he hid tho bottle under the mattress, put on a heavy overcoat and slipped out into ; the darkness. He locked tho door noiselessly and placed the key in his pocket. ‘ Hie first brandy [ ever drank,' ho muttered; ‘how brave it makes one feel, Ach Gotl 1 But I need it for this job !’ On he splashed through the mud and water to the back of the village. Once ho started and felt his heart thump as a vivid flash of lightning revealed an object close to him on the side of the road. ‘Pshaw! yon coward!’ lie said to himself, ‘scared at an old cow getting out of the wet under a tree by the cemetery gate.’ Then he opened the gate, lit his lantern under the wall and made straight for tho grave of Claus Weide In tho pauper’s plot. He could have found the way blindfolded. Ho had been there every day lately. Jnst as tho clock struck midnight a rift in the clonds showed the now moon. (To be continued. )