ad been born. At least he wished that his children might grow up free
from the chilling influences that had fallen upon him. At his earnest
persuasion, Katrine consented that the mill should be sold, and soon
after, with his wife and child, he went to Bremen and embarked for
America.

* * * * *

We must now follow the absconding Stolzen, who, with his bag of
thalers, had made good his escape into England. He lived in London,
where he found society among his countrymen. His habitual shrewdness
never deserted him, and from small beginnings he gradually amassed a
moderate fortune. His first experiment in proposing for a wife
satisfied him, but in a great city his sensual nature was fully
developed. His brutal passions were unchecked; conscience seemed to
have left him utterly. At length he began to think about quitting
London. He was afraid to return to Germany, for, as he had left Carl to
all appearance dead, he thought the officers of the law would seize
him. He determined to go to Australia, and secured a berth in a clipper
ship bound for Melbourne, but some accident prevented his reaching the
pier in season; the vessel sailed without him, and was never heard of
afterwards. Then he proposed to buy an estate in Canada; but the owner
failed to make his appearance at the time appointed for the
negotiation, and the bargain was not completed. At last he took passage
for New York, whither a Hebrew acquaintance of his had gone, a year or
two before, and was established as a broker. Upon arriving in that
city, Stolzen purchased of an agent a tract of land in a Western State,
situated on the shore of Lake Michigan; and after reserving a sum of
money for immediate purposes, he deposited his funds with his friend,
the broker, and started westward. He travelled the usual route by rail,
then a short distance in a mail-coach, which carried him within six
miles of his farm. Leaving his luggage to be sent for, he started to
walk the remaining distance. It was a sultry day, and the prairie road
was anything but pleasant to a pedestrian unaccustomed to heat and
dust. After walking less than an hour, he determined to stop at a small
house near the road, for rest, and some water to quench his thirst; but
as he approached, the baying hounds, no less than the squalid children
about the door, repelled him, and he went on to the next house. He now
turned down a green lane, between rows of thrifty trees, to a nea