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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 13, 1903)
A Modern Romance Hy Richard Voss (Copyright, 1!X0, by 3. W. Mullcr.) The Weary Kings KITE down all theso foolish tldngs hecausu I f"'ur thai they will be tho only chmrful thing w In these pages. If I read them some day, arid reach thin ntury of my lovo, I will nut wrangle or bo rebellious, but I will be glad and give thank that ven for me there onco was a nun, that oik bapplnens made my heart good and wide. After the meal I actually was permlttd to help In the reaping. Miss Frits arid Judica showed us how to take hold of tho ears with one hand and how to cut tho talks. Muld and men looked on, laughed merrily at our clumsiness and, rightly, f c-lc themselves to be masters of the plain. The best was that Judica, whose sickle I bad, went hy my side und gathered my sheave. Bhe put them Into 11 place by thCDUO'lVPS. Jt was lieautlful, too, when Judica and I found a nest In the wheat. Five fcathcrless, piping young ones lay In It, and the parent birds fluttered In dcuthly fear over It, hav ing already given up their little ones aa lost I begged MIhh Frits to permit ua to leave the wheat standing all around the nest, and I was happy to have found my first bird's nest and to have saved the tiny creatures from sure dent met Ion. As wo went away from the. place we Haw the old ones fly twittering to tho nest. 80 at laid I have been good for something. Suddenly there wan a thunderbolt from the clear sky, so that it rounded as If the mountains were toppling headlong. "Hurry, burry!" cried MIhh Fritz. "(Jet your tiling together and haste to the house! (loudness! Judica, what are you doing?" The girl was tugging at a sheaf of wheat, trying to carry It to the wagon. "It is (he wheat that wus cut by the Prince," she said. "Well?" "It shall be threshed. Von will have it (round and I will make bread with It, which we will Heml to the King and thl Queen, because their son cut the wheat himself. Or do you think that It would not be proper?" Miss Frits dod not reply. She hud turned aside and looked nt me with a long, long look, whose meaning I read only too well. It was the f rlghtem d question of Oebhardt again: "What will como of this? You wlil bring misery to tho child!" And my eyes answered : "Alas, I cannot help her I can not help her now. It Is too late. You can aee that it Is stronger than we are, and that I cannot help myself!" Aloud I said: "Let your niece have hor way." And with lowered voice 1 added: "We shall pea of It btter." Without awaiting a reply, I hurried to Judica and left tho field with her. In order to escape a wetting, we ran until we were breathless. Ah If It would have mat tered to us had hoiven Itself crashe 1 on us. If only we were together! I took Judical oy tho bund. Hand In hand we took our way. We went straight toward lh Hack fky, as If wn would esc.ipe to Its terror with our lovo, for which tlioru was no placu ou earth. Then the wild weather burst. A round arose In the air as of supprojsed moans, a groaning and sighing. And new -a roar, coming swiftly, swelling to tempest. Then flash after flash, stroke after stroke! Terribly splendid It was. Just over us pulsed the celeithil flame; Just beside us It smote the earth. Illue light gleamed in the darkness. The thun ders rattled and boomed. Hand In band we went, a pair of young gods, under lightning and thunder. We eame to a meadow full of white Howe: a that looked like a ghost garden lit tho 'Vibrating flame. In Its center stood a gigantic pine. In a lonely place llko a proud man. I had heard that such high, lonely trees attract the lightning and that It Is dangerous to seek shelter under them. I stood still and whispered: "Judica," Bhe whispered: "yes." Dear little Judica." She moved her lips, but remained silent. "Dear little Judica, are you not afraid?" Bhe shook her head. "Are you surely not angry with me any , more?" Bhe smiled at me: "No, no more." "And you lovo me?" "Ah. yes." Only two words they weie, and a world of love In them. We stood In the white meadow, ringed by lightning, roared at by thunder. And I whispered to tha child that loved mo: "I wish that the lightning would strike us It would be beautiful to die now, hand In band, together." Her eyes asked why It would be beautiful to die together. To live together was a thousand times more beautiful! Softly I gave those questioning eyes their answer: "ilecause we may not love each other In life." "Because you are a King's son?" "Dear little Judica!" She had remembered only that I loved bar and that aha loved me and that we were together. All else she had forgotten. My cruel answer brought It back to her. With a glance that tore my heart she with drew ber band from mine. For a little she stood before tne as if she y - - wi MvOT wero waking from a dream, as If she had to recall herself to the awakening. Then sha turned away and walked slowly toward the high pine. I.Ike a spirit, she glided in the lightning flames over the white plain. The same thought that had come to me hud come to her; that a lonely tree at tracts the lightning! I stood with her under the tree, close by her who did not move, but gazed with wide open, unseeing eyes into the storm. As I stepped to her she murmured: "Not you. Please, please, not you." And from time to time she repeated: "Not you, not you." It was as If the world around ua were going up in flame, as it we were to die-a fiery death. Every moment I thought that a stroke would smite the tree. I was calm, quite calm, and more happy than even In that blessed moment when I kissed her Ilrst. Never could I have believed that a man could wait with such peace, such Joy Tor his death. Just then Miss Frits and Gebhardt ap peared. Miss Frits cried: "How could you stand under the tree! It might have been your death!" I looked at Uebhardt. He waa pale to the lips. Stepping close to him, I muttered: "She tried to let the lightning strike her without me." We had barely moved from the spot, when a long, vivid flash of lightning quivered through the air, making me palpitate as if I hnd been struck. And Judica cried In a tone that I never shall forget: "The pine Is burning!" The proud tree was aflame, like a mighty pillar, flaming upward to the Heaven that had no pity with our young love, else It would have sent lis lightnings sooner. Only a few moments oouer. That night we had to remain In the farm, for a deluge followed the storm. At mid night. Oebhardt and I retired; but 1 only waited until he was asleep. Then lamp tu ' band, I went softly downstairs to the big dining room. It was as I hud expected. Miss Fltz sat there, reading. She looked up at my entrance, but kept her seat. "I knew. that your Royal High ness would come," she said, simply. I answered: "You took me In aa a guest. I repay your hospitality by bringing unhappiness for the beloved child for whom you aro respon sible. What I have thus done to you la so wicked that jou cannot forgive tuo. And i "THE FEL1XJW HAS THE KYES OF A MURDERER. did not come to ask for forgiveness." "I am not angry," Bhe replied. "In tha presence of the fate that your love for Judica has brought upon tier, words are useless. You speak of the unhappiness that you will cause for her. I wish to tell you " She. became silent; but In her eyes was a light that made me look at her in wonder. It was the light that Illuminated her whole face. I perceived for the first time that aha must have been very beautiful in her youth. With that shining face she continued: "Is an unhappy lovo unhappiness for wmnen! I hold that every woman who loves is b'.essed, blessed even when tho must renounce it." "You think that Judica will " "Judica will feel as I do. Not now but In time to come. Sha will be unhappy now and for a long time. But sorrow is a purifying flame for a woman's soul. And when we come forth from It, earthly things may not harm us ever after." I cried: "You, too, have loved and re nounced!" She answered: "If It were otherwise, would I speak to you as I am doing now? I camo up here. I have worked. Each day I begin with re newed thankfulness that life which I had once wished to throw away." Again I asked In fear: "But Judica?" "Judica shall remain with me. I promise you that you shall be able to think of her without the shadow of remorse. Your life, that belongs into a world that la not ours, shall remain free from the guilt of having destroyed another." She arose and gave me her hand with that shining look that made her young and beautiful. Holding ber palm in mine, I exclaimed: "How can I thank you? I shall owe it to you that I may have a peaceful con science." "Thank yourself for it that you have preserved your unhappy lovo as a pur love.' "A pure love It was and shall remain. Good night." I stood at the door and asked: "Will you permit me to see Judica only a few more times?" "It were better not." "But Just once more. Do not part us tomorrow. Think of It; It Is parting." "Well, then, one last time." I repeated mechanically :"One last time." Tho sunlight awakened me that, and a girl's voice, singing: "They could not be together. WHO IS HEf The waters were far too deep." Judica. When I opened the door, I found a heap of flowers on the threshold. With her flowers, picked for me, the beloved, I stepped into tbe young day. Miss Frits met me. She said: "Judica has gone to the upper Alp." I could only stutter: "Gone?" ''Had she remained, it would have beea your last meeting today. And I believed' "You dear being." I interrupted her. "And now I can hope to see her again." When we left the farm It was to ma as If I parted from a piece of earth la which my heart was rooted. And, indeed, I did leave it behind me with the pale child. "They could not be together, The water's were far too deep." CHAPTER DC. Autumn. The Idyll Is ended. The tragedy begins. On the Sea-Alp Is the sick King wita the Rplritus famlliarls and a small retinue of chosen ones. The Queen is In the resi dence with the Crown Prince, He ia to take the regency. Now I know the malady of the King. His mania is that he Is being persecuted by enemies. Mow I know what it Is that is rotten in the State of Denmark, It Is tho Royal Dynasty. My professor of history falsified his tory for me. Since generations the old, far too old, blood of the ruling race has been thin and stale. This Is it that the very sparrows twittered In the land, that was kept secret from me, that made them surround me with lies; this that I have learned at last, which has extinguished my youth as suddenly as a storm blows out a light. We are lost men who must leave all hope behind. 'IaBclate ognl speranza, vol ch' entrate" should be written In flaming let ters over the gateway of our house. Our splritus famlliarls told me the trag edy of a King with a nicety of expression as if it were a pastoral. Ho made It fit for Court. There was no brutal expres sions like degeneration and decay. With wondrous skill the great physician spoke of weariness, nervousness, neurasthenia. My brother has kr.own It for a long time. Tbe sparrows that told it to the whole land, twittered to him at the cradle. "You, too. You, too. All of you." That is it, then. The deadly weariness,