THE WEST SHORE.
215
that there was a figure of Fortune over the door of that
Bummer house; it was the figure-head of a ship; behind
that figure was her favorite place. She would climb up
somehow and spend hours there with a Chinese parasol
over her head."
While I thought over these things I began to realize
my supineness in having passed so many months in my
grandfather's native town without attempting to find tho
scenes of his boyhood. I searched various qnartors of
the town in vain, and was about to retrace my stops, when
suddenly I saw through an open doorway, at the far end
of a courtyard, a shark's skin suspended in air.
The house seemed to have passed just as it wns from
the hands of its former proprietor to its presont 0110. On
itr roof veered a weathoroock in the form of a ship, which
suggested the Vocation of its quondam owner, and I knew
that the house of my grandfather should have been be
side it Alast there was no house there now, nothing but
disorder, caused by the dtibris of walls and the gaping
ruins of cellars and basements. My heart sank nt tho
thought that, after all, I had arrived too late. My eyes
wandered aimlessly over this desolate place, where onoe
a little world had existed for my forefathers. I onterod
the courtyard. Before me stood the well where my
grandfather had told me he had boon lot down in one of
the buckets. I then climbed to the top of a hoap of
rubbish, from whence I could see into the neighboring
garden. In the centre was a little summer houso the
same of which I had so often hoard and the wooden
figure of Fortune was still standing, hor cheeks red as
poppies, and a string of blue beads twisted around hor
yellow hair. The tangled wealth of ivy which oovored
the walls of that summer house must have boon thore in
those halcyon days when the little madcap mouutod by its
tendrils to the Fortune's back, and silently watched hor
companion searching the garden for her in vain!
As I gazed at this relic of the past I remombored the
words with which my grandfather ended his story.
"Even thon she was pitiloss," he murmurod with
sigh, " even thon without pity."
Whon, in due course, tho precious miniature came
once more into my hands, my fatlier told me that this
fair girl had not only been my grandfather's playmate as
a child, but the engrossing love of his manhood. In
after years, when he had established himself as a mer
chant at Antwerp, they met once more. Alas! they quar
reled. With hopes shattered and pride humbled my
grandfather accepted a situation in an American firm,
and did not return to Euroj until he was middlo-aged.
More than this my father could not tell me.
Slowly I turned homewards, my fancy picturing a
bright face adorned by long brown curls, and methought
I saw the child seated at the back of that figure of For
tune playing with her goldon coins. As I walked along
the scene changed, and I saw her in the full glow of
beauty, clothed as a bride, driving my poor grandfather
to seek his fortune in the wide world.
Winter had oome. The cold north wind swept howl
ing over the ice-bound earth. I had just heaped an arm.
ful of wood on the fire whon my friond the burgomaster
was announced. He told mo that our neighbor, Madame
Jensen, had just boon found, moro dead than alive, npon
the staircase of hor house.
"The old miser only warms herself with the green
sticks from her orchard," said the burgomaster; "and at
night, whon honest folk are asleep, she crawls down to
hor collar to oount hor gold."
" So they say," I murmurod.
" Cortainly, it must bo so," ho ooutinund, "for there
she was, crouching down in n corner of the stairs, grasp,
iug a dark lantern in her bony hand. Tho worst of it is
that sho is come to lifu again; but, according to tho oom.
missairo do isdice, her reason Is quite gone."
" Well, my dear sir, and what can either you or I do
in tho matter?"
"Don't you see that in hor present stato sho might do
horsolt some mischief? I shall havo to nominate a
guardian over hor and the money which she lias boon
hoarding. You are just tho man for that; I shall appoiut
you."
I did not like tho duty. '
" She has no money. All her legacies have loon ar
ranged under the will of her late husband."
"That Is tho question," interrupted tho burgomaster;
" that point is not very clear. She may yet make soma
alwurd wilL She must lie taken oaro of. Will you un
dertake to do the liost for hor?"
Thoro was no escape, and I was obliged to promise
the burgomaster that I would call that very dny on the
strange old woman.
As my friond was leaving I inquired from him what
sort of man Sievart Janson was.
" Not good for much," he replied " lie was a bon
viiTitr, and for that matter to was sho. I was quite
young whon he died, but I remember a good deal of rev.
olry proceeding from that house, a great deal of drinking
and singing. She was very much admired by the young
men in society, and lioing rich, she ami-' alTord to enter,
tain them. But it did not last long. Youth and Iwauty
vanished, and instead of clinking the wine-glass, she had
to be satisfied with the ring and glitter of her golden
crowns."
With these words the biirgomnster departed.
Tliis time I had no difficulty in gtting into the house.
A nurse from a noighWlng hospital ushered me to
Madsmo Jansen'a room. A strange scene presented I Wolf.
On the chairs, whose ooverings hung in shreds, were
scattered articles of clothing, old bonnet, sauce pans and
other culinary utensils, mingled with scraps of food.
Spiders' wl hung from the ceiling and stretched serosa
the curteinleM windows. The windows had apparently
been closed for yenrs. When the nurse drew aside the
heavy curtains of the huge, old-fashioned bed, a sound
like the clanking of a chain was audible, and I saw a
large bunch of keys firmly held by a shriveled hand. A
lean form, euveloped in a soldier's ragged cjx, tried to