CHAPTER I.

A VISIT TO THE DOCTOR.


It was early in the month of March. The dark blue vault of heaven lay over
mountain and valley, swept free from clouds by the keen northern blast as
it blew across the hills, swaying the big trees hither and thither as if
they were bulrushes, and now and then tearing off huge branches which fell
crashing to the ground. Other and sadder victims were sacrificed to this
fierce north wind. Human beings as well as inanimate objects fell before
him. He struck down with his mighty arm, not only the old and feeble, but
the young and strong; just as he swept away the clouds, hurrying them
across the skies, beyond the horizon line, away out of sight. Sometimes in
one day, a cruel malady would seize one occupant out of each one of the
three or four little villages clustered on the hillside. A sharp pain
attacked the lungs, and after a brief illness the resistless disease bore
away the sufferer to the silent grave.

At the very moment of which we write, a group of black-clad mourners were
standing near one of the pleasantest houses in the isolated village of
Tannenegg, waiting for the sound of the church bell, as the signal to lift
the covered bier on which was stretched the body of a young woman, the
last victim to the north wind's cruel stroke, and to bear her to her
final resting place. In the quiet room within, two children were seated on
a bench, which ran along the wall. They formed a striking contrast to each
other. The girl, a little black-eyed frowning thing, dressed in some
mourning stuff, followed with fierce looks the rapid movements of a woman
who, standing before an open cup-board, was moving its contents over and
about, as if in search of something that did not come to hand. The boy was