g veracity. "I know it wasn't nice,"
said decorous Maren, "but John couldn't help it; it was too much to
bear!"

The next Saturday afternoon, when he was to be taken to Saco, hundreds
of fishermen came to Portsmouth from all parts of the coast,
determined on his destruction, and there was a fearful scene in the
quiet streets of that peaceful city when he was being escorted to the
train by the police and various officers of justice. Two thousand
people had assembled, and such a furious, yelling crowd was never seen
or heard in Portsmouth. The air was rent with cries for vengeance;
showers of bricks and stones were thrown from all directions, and
wounded several of the officers who surrounded Wagner. His knees
trembled under him, he shook like an aspen, and the officers found it
necessary to drag him along, telling him he must keep up if he would
save his life. Except that they feared to injure the innocent as well
as the guilty, those men would have literally torn him to pieces. But
at last he was put on board the cars in safety, and carried away to
prison. His demeanor throughout the term of his confinement, and
during his trial and subsequent imprisonment, was a wonderful piece of
acting. He really inspired people with doubt as to his guilt. I make
an extract from the Portsmouth Chronicle, dated March 13th, 1873:
"Wagner still retains his amazing _sang froid_, which is wonderful,
even in a strong-nerved German. The sympathy of most of the visitors
at his jail has certainly been won by his calmness and his general
appearance, which is quite prepossessing." This little instance of his
method of proceeding I must subjoin: A lady who had come to converse
with him on the subject of his eternal salvation said, as she left
him, "I hope you put your trust in the Lord," to which he sweetly
answered, "I always did, ma'am, and I always shall."

A few weeks after all this had happened, I sat by the window one
afternoon, and, looking up from my work, I saw some one passing
slowly,--a young man who seemed so thin, so pale, so bent and ill,
that I said, "Here is some stranger who is so very sick, he is
probably come to try the effect of the air, even thus early." It was
Ivan Christensen. I did not recognize him. He dragged one foot after
the other wearily, and walked with the feeble motion of an old man. He
entered the house; his errand was to ask for work. He could not bear
to go away from the neighborhood of the place where Aneth