ving it forwards. On the hill behind the house there
sounded a constant rolling and rumbling; as if the storm were savage at
being deprived of the wood in which it was accustomed to career at
will; and now the blast wreaks its wrath on the old chesnut trees and
pines close to the house while they sway about wildly, and creak and
strain. It is most fortunate that the house is so strongly built; one
of the old fashioned kind, made of whole logs of timber laid crossways,
otherwise there would be good reason to fear that the hurricane would
sweep away the house and all in it.

"That would be famous!" Lenz laughed bitterly; but he often looked over
his shoulder in terror, for the old beams cracked today, as if the
house knew what was going on within its walls.

Such a night and such a mood, no inhabitant of this house had ever
known; neither Lenz's father, nor grandfather, nor great grandfather.

He went to fetch writing materials, and found himself, by chance, with
the light in his hand opposite the looking glass, staring at a human
face with wild, sunken eyes. At last he sat down and wrote; he paused
repeatedly, pressed his hand to his eyes, and then wrote on again
hurriedly. He rubbed his eyes but no tears came to his relief:--"You
can no longer weep; you have too much sorrow for one man to bear," said
he in a low voice. He wrote:--

"BROTHER OF MY HEART!

"It grieves me to write to you; but I must once more speak to you
freely. I think of the days, and the summer nights, when I roamed about
with you, dear friend. I cannot believe that it was I! it surely must
have been another man! God is my witness, and also my mother in heaven,
that I never willingly offended any one in my life; and if I ever
offended you, beloved friend, forgive me; I ask your pardon a thousand
times. I never did so intentionally. A man situated as I am, is not
worthy to live.

"And now, this is the point: I expect no deliverance but from death. I
know it is scandalous, but if I live the scandal will be greater. Each
day of my life I am a murderer. I can no longer bear this. I weep night
after night, and I despise myself for it. I may say that I might have
been a quiet, upright, honest man, if I could have kept in the straight
path. I am not equal to contend with others. Tears rush to my eyes when
I think of what I have become, and yet I was once so different. If I
continue to live, my life will disgrace my children; now it will only
be my de