Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 June 1891 — JENS. [ARTICLE]

JENS.

I. P SJolunder in New Orlem* Times-Demo- «**. —— ' There had been trouble at the mill that day, and as usual I had lost my temper. The men had scowled and muttered among themselves as my curses descended on their heads, and many threatening glances had been directed toward me, as I was perched upon a pile flf lumber, bidding them defiance. The upshot of the quarrel was that I closed the mill for tne day, and told them that all who were satisfied to work on the old terms could return to their posts in the morning. Toward night, however, an uneasv feeling took possession of, me. I could hot rest. The atmosphere in and about the office seemed stifling and oppressive I left the mill and went home. On the way I saw groups of men gathered on the street corners, all looking at me with menacing glances. But what did I care for their looks? Were they not dependent upon oje and my mill for the bread to still their hunger, and for the rags to cover their bodies? Yes! What did it matter to me whether they worked or not? I could afford to close the mill for years—forever, if I choose —and still" have sufficient for my every want. I laughed in their faces as I passed, ana called them fools. When I reached home my sister met me at the door. There was an anxious look in her eyes and a tremor in her voice as she greeted me. “Oh, Edwardl is it true that you have had trouble again with the men at the mill?” she asked. I scanned her face closely before T ans wered. Yes, pur hereditary curse, insanity, sho’tie'iu her eyes now. It had come upon us at last. I could hardly repress the cry of Biin that sprang to my lips at the scoyery— ■*‘Oh, God! have mercy

upon me!” With an effort, however, I calmed myself and kissed her as usual. Then I replied to her question. '•Yes, sister mine. The dogs had the audaeitv to ask for shorter hours Of course f refused them and closed the mill. They can do their loafing now at their own expense, and it will not be long before their empty stomachs will bring them back to their senses. ” With the subtlety of insanity Clare -tried to reason with me that evening. She took the men's part, and pleaded for them so piteously that, at last, just to please andj quiet her, I consented to accede to some of their un reasonable demands.

At this she came and kissed me, and after a few minutes conversation on other subjects she left me and retired for the night. When alone, however, the pent-up-feelings that had been tormenting me, the whole evening, broke loose from all restraint. I swore then to take -v-nble revenge upon the cursed dolts who. by their damnable demands at the mill that day, had so excited Clara, bringing on the crisis that unbalanced her mind. ~ For years I had been constantly on the watch for the first symptons of insanity .which I knew would come sooner or later to my sister or I. The disease was hereditary, and I had alwavs known that one or both of us would become its victim in the end. Oh! how I had prayed, often and often, that it Jwould fall to my lot. and leave my beautiful Clare unscathed; but my prayers had been in vain. That night I saw that the fire was kindled and burning, which would finally destroy reason, and leave her a mental wijeck. Clare and I were all in all to each other. Our parents having died when were children, we were alone in the world. We both knew what was in store for one of us. at least, some day, but by an unspoken agreement, we had never mentioned the subject between us. lam sure, however, that the same thought governed Clare’s actions, that ruled mine, and that she feared the excitement resultant from the quarrel at the mill would bring on the beginning of the end. never dreaming that the very fear she entertained had effected in her what she dreaded should happen to me. There was one especially whom I had marked for punishment —a fellow who had said nothing, but who, I felt satisfied, was at the bottom of the trouble, for he was well fitted by superior knowledge and attainments to be a leader of the rabble that had threatened me. Adam Morely should suffer —curse him!—for the part he had taken. He did not derive me by standing apart from the rest,looking on disinterestedly. His acting was too t ransparent to deceive me- so overdone that it betrayed him and his little scheme.

Yes: the more'l thought the matter over the more convinced I became that Morloy was the instigator of the trouble aud that he was the man on whom to take revenge. When I had made this perfectly clear to myself I took a knife, a murderous-looking weapon I had picked up at the mill, and put it in my pocket. Then drawing my hat well down over my face, [ stole noiselessly out of the house. I knew from former experiences that the mill hnuds were yet out on the streets, congregated on the corners and in the bar-rooms, as usual when they had a day to themselves. My judgment of their habits and ?haracter was true and correct, for [ found them just where I bad expected. The men were gathered in small groups here and there, orderly enough to look at; but I knew from their actions from .the subdued tones in which they were talking that they were planning some new deviltry for the next day. I walked along leisurely, although every feeling

within me prompted me to rush forward, weapon In hand, and scatter death and destruction among them. 1 was just passing a dark doorway when some one reached out and grasped me by the arm, drawing me Mr. Zavalla, please do not go away further,” a man’s voice said in low tones. “The men have been drinking aU day and are jjiist in the humor to do you'some harm if you go among them. ’

“Who are you?” I asked. “Adam Morley.” The very man I had come out to find, and here I had found him, or rather he had found me. I felt like shouting in exultation at my success. Here we two were standing face to face in the dark—l grasping the knife in my hand ready to strike and he unsuspecting and defenseless. “Curse you, Adam Morley!” I hissed as I lifted my hand to plunge the knifeJnto his breast. Just then some one laid a hand upon my shoulder and a voice, gentle but clear and distinct, spoke in my ear: ‘ ‘Easy, easy, ray friend; that would be murder. ”

At the sound of the voice and the touch of the hand a strange thrill went through me. My arm dropped to my side and the tumult in my breast seemed to die. A new feeling came over me, a sense of peace and quiet and rest. “Come, Mr. Zavalla,” the speaker continued,” “this is noplace for you at this time of night. I am going your way and will keep you company until we reach your house. The man took my arm. I felt perfectly contented to go with him. When we reached the street, and the light from the lamp fell upon him, I looked into his face. He was a perfeot stranger to me.

T beg your pardon, Mr. Zavalla,” he said with a smile. “I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Jens. I knew your father intimately at one time, and I hope I may be allowed to call his son also by the dear name of friend.” “Certainly you may Mr. Jens,” I replied, cordially, feeling drawn to this strange man in an unaccountable manner altogether new to me, for it had always been one of my great difficulties to become on "friendly terms with anybody.

“Ah, yes; thanks for the privilege. It will aford me great pleasure, I assure,” he went on, in that sweetly musical voice of his which was so soothing after the excitement which stirred me so deeply. lam fully six feet in height, so that,,by my side, Jen was a comparatively small man, his head barely reaching up to my shoulder. He was slender in build, with remarkably smalt hands and feet, and his movements were quick, but sure and exact. free from that nervous flutter which often attends the swift motions of small men.

But the special charm in Jens was his eyes. In darkness or light I seemed to feel them looking at me from the first moment we met. His voice, too, had a peculiar power over ray feelings. Whenever its sound reached my ears, no matter how excited I had been just before, a restful feeling would steel over me and I became quite cool and collected. That night, Jens somehow gained a mastery over rhe from which I fear death alone can emancipate me. When we reached my house he followed me inside, at my invitation, of course; but it had been wrung from me by one of hi 9 glances and the soft purring murmur of his voice. I can never tell why I did so, but I confided to Jens all my troubles. T told him my fears that my sister’s reason had given away andthe. whole histoi’y of the taint that ran in opr blood. He listened attentively, looking up with his wonderful eyes occasionally, whenever I hesitated or was about to withhold something from him.

We slept in the same room; I in my own bed, he on the sofa—that being his choice. The day was just breaking when I awoke. * I lay for a few moments over what had happened the night before, and I felt heartily ashamed of myself for the foolish part I had acted in taking a perfect stranger into my confidence and giving him a lodging under my roof. As I pondered I became convinced that Jens, the pretended friend of my father, was an imposter and a fraud. When I had fully come to to this conclusion it needed only a moment to form the determination that he must leave my house. With this intention I got up and approached the sofa on which he was laving, apparently sound asleep. When I drew near, however, he turned his face toward me, looking up with his wonderful eyes and smiling brightly. ‘ ‘You are an early riser, my friend, ” he said. “I am inclined that way myself, but not knowing your habits, I did not like to disturb you." I assured him that he would have to get up before the first faint peep of dawn if he expected to find me asleep. My determination to eject him from my house that morning failed as miserably as it failed every morning after. The look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, his smile of calm assurance disarmed me and I was helpless. He became an inmate of my house; he ate my bread and ruled me by a word or a glance. When he was absent or I was out of hi 3 sight I hated him and cursed the day on which I had fallen into his power. Even my beautiful Clare came under his influence. As her mind grew weaker from day to day she became to him

as clay in the potter's hands. I could sea how she watched for his every smile and longed for the sound of his voice with a pitiful apparentness that almost broke my heart. Jens followed me about wherever I went. On the street, at the office, or in the mill, he was at my heels. Through his strange influence over me he even induced me to place Adam Morley in charge of the mill. The latter, of course, was as servile and humble in my presence as if he had not been the instigator of the trouble which had brought insanity upon my sister perhaps years earlier than it would have come otherwise. The men seemed to be well pleased, however, with the appointment, and I had no further trouble with them.

The change in my sister from day to day was fully apparent to my watchful eyes. Often I saw her stealing away from my door on tiptoe, after standing there watching me closely for several minutes. At such times I never looked up from my woik, but let her follow out her strange whims without showing her that she had been detected. One day she had not crane to my door as usual for over an hour, and I became uneasy. I went to her room, but she was not there. Then I visited the sitting room and the library, but did not find her. Next I went into the garden. I was stealing along the walk leading to her favorite arbor as noiselessly as possible, so as Dot to startle her, when the sound of subdued voices reached my ears. I paused in a moment, and crouching down where I stood I peered through the shrubbery. What I saw there I shall never forget as long as life is in ms.

Jens held my poor demented sister in his embrace, kissing her again and again, while the blushes came and went on her beautiful face. She was so completely in his power that she did not even struggle to become free, or murmur a protest against his outrage Her bright eyes gleamed with a light I had never seen in them before—half fear, half ecstacy —as she gazed mutely into his. A resistless longing came over me to grasp the unprincipled scoundrel by the throat. My hands fairly clawed the air, as with a cry of rage upon my lips I dashed. through the bushes and rushed toward him.

The cry betrayed me, and his life was saved. The next thing I remember Jens was bending over me as I lay prostrate upon the ground, his mysterious eyes looking straight into mine, while what seemed to be a taunting smile played arouned the corners of his mouth. “Come, Edward, let me assist you to your feet,” he said. The tone was more authoritative than any he had over used to me before. I did not resist, but submitted meekly to his command. But in that moment I swore to take his life at the first opportunity that offered. Can anyone blame me? Wielding the power he did over us, what other means could I project that would so effectually rid us of his influence and save us from dishonor?

From that day I calmly bided my time. Instead of Jens keeping at my heels as heretofore, it was I who never let him oirt of my sight, but followed him everywhere like his shadow. I gave him no opportunity to be alone with my sister, and I could see that it annoyed him. One day, however, when I had been rather more persistent thqn usual in following him about, to me in Clare’s presence, as he tock her hand in his: •‘Edward, I love your sister, and she has promised to become my wife. Have you any objection to our engagement?” Cruel knave! He had chosen his time and place with keen foresight. With Clare’s eyes looking into mine imploringly, and her hands clinging to him trustingly, what answer could I give? I dare not, with her beautiful face before me, accuse him, as I would have done had she not been present, of his devilish scheme to wed my poor sister for her money, taking advantage of her irresponsibility and misfortune.

He had wrung consent from me, but that, I swore, should not save him from the fate I had in store for him. Carefully, imperceptibly, I was weaving a web around him which would be his doom sooner or later. He evidently suspected something at first, but by adroit carelessness on my part I threw him off his guard more and more every day, until at last I felt confident the devil could be caught in his own trap. One night the opportunity came. The mill was running night and day while a large bill of lumber was being sawed out. I resumed my place while the rush lasted,and had chosen the night watch, for that, I knew, would afford me the best chance to get rid of my enemy. Jens was with me every night, and followed me about the mul wherever my duties called me.

I had the plan perfected to a nicety. There was a chute inside the mill into which the slabs and refuse were dumped. At the bottom of this chute was an endless chain that carried the stuff up an elevator to the height of over 100 feet and fully 600 yards from the mill; thence it was shot down from its elevation into the slab pit below, where afire was burning constantly, fed by an almost continuous stream of slabs and timber ends. It was midnight. The mill had been stopped for naif an hour, while the hands were eating their lunch. I had made the rounds of the mill, during this time, and had inspected everything, Jens fellowing me. We had returned to the sawroom and stopped at the edge of the slab chute. 1 carried a hammer in my hand

wjiich I had used during my "tour of I inspection. As we stopped at the] chute I turned, suddenly, pointing into space behind us without saying j a word. Jens was thrown of his ' guard and looked around. His back was toward me for a mo- ' ment. With all my strength I struck T him over the head with the hammer, I and at the same time, with a push, • sent him spinning down to the bottom of the chute. . ... Then I ran to the engineer’s station. I pulled the lever, throwing the throttle wide open. The machinery started with such suddenness that belts and pulleys hissed, beams and timbers shook and creaked and the large circular saws hummed and clangored liked a thousand bells. I never stopped to see what happened inside the mill. I ran outside and thence to a high bank on the river, where I could have a full view of the slab elevator and the smoking burning pit below. Slab after slab came tumbling over and shot downward into the burning mass, but I was looking to see the body of my hated enemy come to the end of the elevator. I saw hint at last but he was standing upright strei moving slowly, his form clearly outlined against the starry sky. Just then came a terrible roar and hiss. The earth shook and trembled under mv feet, and a shower of iron and brick, of timbers and splinters of wood fell about me on every side. I looked around me. The mill was one great blaze of fire. A huge pillar of smoke ascended on the calm night air, bearing the souls of the dead and the groans of the woundec and dying with it toward heaven. * * * * * * They say lam mad. They say J am a murderer. Perhaps lam both, perhaps I am neither. They do not hang mad men, however, at least not as long as they have sense enough tc behave themselves as such. * *

I was almost thrown off mv guaref to-day. Clare visited me —she is as mad as a march hare now —looking as beautiful as ever. Jens, —curse him, —was with her. He had a deep, broad scar scross his face, and walked with a limp, so that I did not recognize him at first. But when I saw his eyes I knew him instantly. They stayed with me most of the afternoon. When they were going away, Jens for a moment took his eyes off me. I was about to spring upon him and grasp him by. the throat, when he turned around again suddenly with the old smile upon his face. “Remember, Edward, that you must behave like a gentleman, or people will think you are deceiving them,” he said. There must be something in that advice. I will dissect and analyze it by the time poor Clare and that rascally husband of hers visit me again.