d clean, and often I used to watch her as she sat by the fire
spinning at a spinning-wheel brought from her own country; she made
such a pretty picture, with her blue gown and fresh white apron, and
the nice, clear white muslin bow with which she was in the habit of
fastening her linen collar, that she was very agreeable to look upon.
She had a pensive way of letting her head droop a little sideways as
she spun, and while the low wheel hummed monotonously, she would sit
crooning sweet, sad old Norwegian airs by the hour together, perfectly
unconscious that she was affording such pleasure to a pair of
appreciative eyes. On the 12th of October, 1872, in the second year of
her stay with us, her brother, Ivan Christensen, and his wife, Anethe
Mathea, came over from their Norseland in an evil day, and joined
Maren and John at their island, living in the same house with them.

Ivan and Anethe had been married only since Christmas of the preceding
year. Ivan was tall, light-haired, rather quiet and grave. Anethe was
young, fair, and merry, with thick, bright sunny hair, which was so
long it reached, when unbraided, nearly to her knees; blue-eyed, with
brilliant teeth and clear, fresh complexion, beautiful, and beloved
beyond expression by her young husband, Ivan. Mathew Hontvet, John's
brother, had also joined the little circle a year before, and now
Maren's happiness was complete. Delighted to welcome them all, she
made all things pleasant for them, and she told me only a few days
ago, "I never was so happy in my life as when we were all living there
together." So they abode in peace and quiet, with not an evil thought
in their minds, kind and considerate toward each other, the men
devoted to their women and the women repaying them with interest, till
out of the perfectly cloudless sky one day a bolt descended, without a
whisper of warning, and brought ruin and desolation into that peaceful
home.

Louis Wagner, who had been in this country seven years, appeared at
the Shoals two years before the date of the murder. He lived about the
islands during that time. He was born in Ueckermuende, a small town of
lower Pomerania, in Northern Prussia. Very little is known about him,
though there were vague rumors that his past life had not been without
difficulties, and he had boasted foolishly among his mates that "not
many had done what he had done and got off in safety;" but people did
not trouble themselves about him or his past, a