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 LONDON. 
 
 SROOMBRIDGE AND SONS, PATERNOSTER RO*: 
 
1 
 
 I 
 
 
<fel €^nra r s JUnrage, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A PRUSSIAN VILLAGE, AND SOME OF ITS 
 
 INHABITANTS. 
 
 It was very wrong, but so it was, that Michael 
 Arnold would delight in tormenting and ter- 
 rifying Carl Thorn. Towards all other children 
 in the village of Sprea, Michael was pleasant 
 and good-humoured enough ; but the moment 
 poor Carl appeared, that moment did a roguish 
 expression come over Michael's face, while he 
 prepared for what he called — or what he would 
 have called, had he been an English boy of 
 our own days — a prime bit of fun, or a lark, or 
 some other term, often used by vulgar lads, 
 when they speak of something particularly 
 mischievous. 
 
 It was cowardly, very cowardly, of Michael ; 
 for while he himself was a strong robust boy, 
 twelve years of age, or thereabout, Carl was 
 two or three years younger, and as delicate as 
 a boy not actually in ill health could well be. 
 It was the more cowardly too, because Carl 
 seemed to have no one to take his part : his 
 only friend was his mother, a widow lady 
 
6 CARL THORN'S 
 
 who, since she had lived in Sprea, had seldom 
 been seen beyond her own cottage garden, 
 and whose health seemed to have been much 
 broken down by sorrow and suffering. 
 
 It was ungenerous as well as cowardly ; for 
 Carl and his mother were strangers in Sprea ; 
 and, for that reason, should have been treated 
 with respect and kindness. 
 
 Michael, however, never stopped to consider : 
 he knew it was Some pleasure to frighten the 
 ittle helpless child, and that pleasure he de- 
 termined to enjoy. But before we say any 
 more about Michael and Carl, we must make 
 known more particularly where they lived. 
 
 Sprea is a village near the town of Custrin, 
 in Prussia. It is a very small and poor place, 
 but its situation is delightful. The few houses 
 it contains are scattered irregularly about the 
 slopes of a gently rising ground, at the bottom 
 of which runs a clear pleasant stream, that, 
 after struggling hither and thither in many a 
 serpent-like bend, at last empties itself in the 
 river Wartha. 
 
 A hundred years ago, or a little less, about 
 which time our story commences, there were 
 but three habitations in the whole village, 
 which had any appearance of comfort. The 
 first of these was the old chateau, or country- 
 house, of Count Stettin, to whom the whole 
 village and the country for miles round be- 
 longed. It was said that the ancestors of this 
 Count were, in their days, little better than 
 mighty robbers, and that the old chateau had 
 witnessed many shocking scenes of cruelty. 
 But these times had passed away, and the 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 Count who live 1 n the year 1755, was scarcely 
 known in Sprea, while the neglected chateau 
 was fast going to decay. 
 
 The house next in importance, was an old, 
 huge-roofed, gable-fronted, rambling place, 
 shut in from the rest of the village by high 
 walls, except on the side where rolled the 
 source of its occupier's prosperity — the little 
 river. Overhanging this, was a mill, with its 
 large water-wheel, kept always in motion by 
 a natural fall of the stream. Here lived John 
 Arnold the miller, and Michael was his son. 
 
 As to the miller himself, he was rather 
 good-tempered than otherwise, except that he 
 had certain strong prejudices and antipathies, 
 which too often wonderfully moved him. For 
 instance, it was his firm opinion, which nothing 
 could alter or shake, that money was not only 
 the best of all good things in the world, but 
 that the possession of it was the only sure proof 
 of merit. Now, as John Arnold was, without 
 dispute, the richest personage in Sprea, it 
 followed quite naturally, that John Arnold 
 thought himself the most important, and best 
 man in the village. There were few to gainsay 
 this ; and it is but just to say, that to his poor 
 neighbours, who withheld from him none ot 
 the homage he claimed, he was kind and con- 
 siderate, though fond of showing much petty 
 authority. 
 
 Among John Arnold's antipathies or dis- 
 likes, one was strongly fixed upon the stranger 
 widow, who lived in the only other decent 
 dwelling in Sprea. This was a neat little 
 cottage on the opposite side of the stream, I 
 
r. 
 
 8 CAUL THQBN'tf 
 
 but otherwise very near to the mill. Why 
 the miller suffered himself to dislike this 
 harmless neighbour, perhaps he himself could 
 not have explained. He considered her, how- 
 ever, to be an interloper, arid he did not see 
 why the village of Sprea should be burdened 
 with people who refused to make any ac- 
 quaintance, and who, above all things, would 
 give no account of themselves to hiin ; the 
 rich and all-important John Arnold. 
 
 It was, moreover, the general opinion, that 
 the widow Thorn was poor. When, therefore, 
 the miller was informed by those who had had 
 occasion to call upon her, that her cottage was 
 elegantly furnished, and that she looked and 
 spoke like a person of consequence, he was 
 quite indignant. If he could have done it, 
 he would have banished the poor lady from 
 her lonely retreat ; and as he could not do that, 
 he scowled every day, and ten times a-day, 
 across the stream, at the pretty white-washed 
 cottage, as though he really had received from 
 its inmate some unpardonable injury. 
 
 Prejudices and bad feeling spread very 
 rapidly in some families, and thus Michael 
 Arnold had been led to fancy himself called 
 upon to hate and torment poor little Carl. It 
 was unfortunate that he had no gentle and 
 kind-hearted mother to teach him better. 
 John Arnold's wife had long been dead. 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 TIIE TROUBLES OF CARL TIIOKN. 
 
 Poor little Carl had known some changes in 
 his short life. Until he was about three years 
 of age, he had been nursed in luxury. His 
 father was a trusted servant of the King of 
 Prussia, and lived in a large house in the 
 gayest part of the fine city of Berlin. Sud- 
 denly he was charged with being unfaithful 
 to his master, by revealing some great secret, 
 and, without much inquiry, was dismissed in 
 disgrace. Thus plunged from honour and 
 riches to scorn and poverty, Carl could very 
 well remember the removal of his parents 
 from their beautiful house, to a small lodging 
 in quite a different part of Berlin, and the 
 dismissal of all their servants, except Agatha, 
 his own nurse. After this, Carl had noticed 
 the altered looks of his father, — how thin and 
 pale he became, and how fast the gray hairs 
 increased. He had seen, too, how sorrowful 
 his mother appeared, except when his father 
 was by, and then how she strove to hide her 
 own troubles, that she might not add to his 
 distress. He had witnessed how she per- 
 formed with her own hands, almost every 
 thing which had before been done by ser- 
 vants. And though Carl was too young to 
 understand very much of what had taken 
 place, he heard enough from Agatha, to fill 
 his mind with strange, mysterious thoughts. 
 
OP 
 
 10 CAUL THORN s 
 
 Among other things, he earnestly wished that 
 he were a man, that he might go and tell King 
 Frederick how badly he had used his father, 
 who was too good and true to have been guilty 
 of any such fault as had been laid to his 
 
 charge. 
 
 Then another change had taken place. 
 When Carl was scarcely five years old, his 
 father died of grief, so his mother told him ; 
 and the little boy had since then often won- 
 dered how grief could kill any one. So it 
 was, however, with his father, for his mother 
 had said it ; and as Carl believed that King 
 Frederick was the cause of his father's grief, 
 he quite made up his mind that the king was 
 a very bad man. 
 
 His father's melancholy death had led to 
 another removal. How the widow Thorn came 
 to think of living in the village of Sprea, we 
 are not told ; but it was to Sprea that she de- 
 termined to take her little Carl. It may be 
 that she thought he needed country air, and 
 that she herself wished to go where no one 
 knew of her misfortunes and sorrows. 
 
 It was a great trial to poor Carl at this 
 time to part with Agatha ; but his mother 
 told them both that it must be ; for all the 
 property she had left was scarcely enough to 
 provide for herself and her child. So Agatha 
 had been obliged, with many tears, to seek 
 another service, 
 
 At Sprea, then, Carl and his mother had 
 lived about four years ; and if it had not been 
 for two troubles, his life would have been a 
 pleasant one ; for he loved the pure air and 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 11 
 
 the beautiful meadows, and gentle stream, 
 and cared very little for any other companion 
 while he had his own mother to talk to within 
 doors, and the birds of the air to listen to 
 without : above all living things in the w r orld, 
 except his mother and Agatha, Carl loved 
 birds. But there were two circumstances, as 
 we have just said, which often made Carl sad, 
 The first was, that his mother was often 
 unhappy. She did not, indeed, shed many 
 tears when he was near, nor make great 
 lamentations at any time ; but Carl was a 
 thoughtful boy, and he fancied he could tell 
 what was passing in his mother's mind, when, 
 perhaps, she supposed he was thinking of 
 something very different, and even when she 
 was trying to amuse him w r ith stories of her 
 childhood. Carl feared, too, that his mother 
 missed the many luxuries she had, as he well 
 knew, been used to ; and though he really 
 could enjoy the very homely and coarse food 
 they were obliged to use, he did wish, for his 
 mother's sake, that some kind fairy, — Carl 
 had heard of fairies, — would bring every day 
 to their cottage such nice things as he remem- 
 bered to have seen and tasted, when he was 
 but a little child. 
 
 The other great disturber of Carl's comfort, 
 was Michael Arnold. No one but himself 
 knew how much he suffered from the miller's 
 mischievous son. Least of all did his mother 
 know it. She little guessed that her " errand 
 boy," as she often playfully called Carl, could 
 never pass the great gate of the mill-yard 
 without trembling lest his tormentor should 
 
r 
 
 L 
 
 12 CARL THOBN S 
 
 be in sight; and how many insults he had 
 borne in silence, because he would not add to 
 his dear mother's distress. 
 
 Once within the cottage walls, and when he 
 could quite forget these vexations, then was 
 Carl happy. You must not think he was 
 idle : — far from it ! Perhaps his w as the busiest 
 head in all Sprea, to say nothing o f his hands, 
 which were generally full of work. Only to 
 think how much a boy of nine or ten years 
 old can do to help a poor lonely mother is 
 quite surprising ; and scarcely anything can 
 be thought of, that Carl was not ready to per- 
 form. But Carl did all such things as a matter 
 of course, because he loved his mother : his 
 head-work he loved for its own sake. 
 
 It was a good thing for Carl that his mother 
 had thought of bringing to Sprea a large case 
 full of books, which had belonged to his father 
 or herself, when they were in prosperity ; and 
 it was a happy thing both for Carl and his 
 mother, that she was as able and willing to 
 teach him, as he was to learn. Oh ! the glorious 
 long evenings that the widow Thorn and her 
 son passed alone, shut out from the rest of the 
 world, reading and talking about a thousand 
 pleasant and useful things; so that, after a 
 time, and a short time too, Carl's head was 
 quite a museum of entertaining knowledge ! 
 And what was better still,— how many kind 
 and wise instructions did he receive from that 
 gentle mother, how many lessons of content- 
 ment, industry, perseverance^ and kindness 
 to all !— of gratitude to his Maker,— so that 
 his heart was filled with love, while his head 
 
REVENGE. 13 
 
 was filled with knowledge. At such times as 
 these, Carl was quite sure that he could for- 
 give and forget all Michael Arnold's unkind- 
 ness, and wished that Michael could but know 
 how friendly towards him he felt. He tried, 
 too, to forgive King Frederick ; but this was 
 a harder task. 
 
 One fine morning in early spring, it hap- 
 pened that Carl's mother was more than 
 usually sad. hi spite of all she could do, 
 and she tried hard, she could not keep her 
 tears from being seen ; and though Carl again 
 and again put his arms round her neck, and 
 kissed her pale cheek, and begged her to take 
 her breakfast, and then to walk with him into 
 their little garden, to see how much work he 
 had already done before she was up, he did 
 not succeed in driving away her sorrow. At 
 last, she said, " Carl, do you know any little 
 errand boy who would go to Custrin to-day ?" 
 
 To be sure, Carl very well knew of one who 
 was not far off, who would go to the world's 
 end, if there were such a place, without wait- 
 ing to be twice asked. 
 
 " But you have never been alone, Carl ; and 
 it is nearly ten miles to Custrin. Are you not 
 afraid of losing your way ; and will not the 
 walk make you very tired ? Remember your 
 legs are not very strong." 
 
 Carl was quite sure that he should not be 
 tired ; and that he very well knew the way ; 
 and without further argument, he ran into 
 the little closet, which served for his bed- 
 room, and qi ned — not « b* nd 
 
NP 
 
 14 CARL THORN'S 
 
 spurred," but ready for the important mission. 
 But before Carl is made acquainted with his 
 errand, we must reveal the cause of his mother's 
 grief, on this fine spring morning. 
 
 Before she left Berlin to live at Sprea, the 
 widow Thorn placed all the little property 
 she had left, in the hands of a merchant, who 
 engaged to pay her a certain number of rix- 
 dollars every three months, for the use of her 
 money. Until lately she had received that 
 income, with proper regularity, through an- 
 other merchant who lived at Custrin. Thus, 
 though the amount was very small, by good 
 management she had always had enough, 
 after paying the rent of her cottage, to last 
 from one quarter-day to another. But now 
 three weeks had passed, and her money had 
 not reached her. Day after day she had sat 
 at her window, watching for the appearance 
 of the merchant's clerk who, mounted on a 
 gray pony, had always punctually brought her 
 the little packet of rix-dollars as often as the 
 quarter-days came round. But now, though 
 she had looked till her eyes ached, no gray 
 pony had she seen trotting over the bridge 
 which was the only road from the village to 
 her cottage. Patiently had she waited, hoping 
 that each day would end her uncertainty, until, 
 at length, nothing but a single florin remained 
 in her purse. 
 
 And this was not the worst of it. The 
 quarter-day had arrived, and passed away, and, 
 for the first time, the widow had been unable 
 to pay the rent of her cottage. She had been 
 obliged to ask for indulgence on account of 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 15 
 
 her disappointment ; and the agent of Count 
 Stettin had spoken harshly to her, and had, 
 but the day before we are speaking of, sent a 
 cruel message to the poor tenant, that if the 
 rent were not paid within a week, he would 
 take her goods, and turn her out of the cottage : 
 the agent was John Arnold, the miller. 
 
 This was a sore trouble to the poor widow ; 
 but there was yet another cause for her sad- 
 ness. She had never once asked the uncour- 
 teous miller to trust her for her weekly purchase 
 of meal, and after what had passed about the 
 rent, she dared not make such a request now ; 
 and yet she had dreaded to part with the last 
 florin until assured of a fresh supply, about 
 which she had terrible misgivings. So the 
 result was that one small brown loaf was not 
 only the choicest, but the only food remaining 
 for the support of herself and her little Carl. 
 No wonder, then, that she was unable, on that 
 morning, to eat the breakfast which he, un- 
 conscious of all the causes of her grief, so 
 urgently pressed upon her. 
 
 And now Carl was ready, and waiting only 
 for his errand. " Take this note, my son, to 
 Mr. Rossi, the merchant, and ask for his reply. 
 Perhaps he will give you money, if he does, be 
 sure you do not lose it. If you receive from 
 him only a letter, you must go to the gold- 
 smith at the corner of the same street, where 
 you once went with me to have my ring re- 
 paired. Give him this note (she put a second 
 into Carl's hand) ; take care of it, there is a 
 trinket inside, for which he will probably give 
 you money. Shall you remember all this ?" 
 
L 
 
 16 CARL THORN'S 
 
 Yes : Carl would be sure to remember ; and, 
 promising to be home again before sunset, at 
 latest, he started on his journey, full of hope 
 that his success, — and he was determined to 
 succeed — would once more gladden his mo- 
 ther's heart. 
 
 But stop : " Carl, Carl ;"— it was his mothers 
 voice calling after him as lie had reached 
 the garden gate. Carl returned. " My poor 
 boy. To think how thoughtless I could be ! 
 I should never have forgiven myself. Why, 
 Carl, what would you do for your dinner V 
 
 " Time enough for that mother, when I 
 return." 
 
 il What ! and walk twenty miles without 
 food ! No, no ; you must get something nice 
 when you are at Custrin ; or. may be, Mr. 
 Rossi may ask you to dine with him. If not, 
 you must not be without money. Here is a 
 in." 
 
 But Carl resolutely refused to take it. He 
 saw, as she took it from her purse, that there 
 was not another left behind. No, not he. It 
 would have weighed him down to the ground, 
 if he had put that last florin into his pocket. 
 
 Long and stoutly did Carl battle the point 
 with his mother ; at length it was managed 
 thus. Carl's mother was to keep the florin ; 
 and, instead of trusting to Mr. Rossi's uncer- 
 
 "a generosity, or of being under the neces- 
 sity of breaking into the money he might 
 receive at Custrin, Carl consented to take halt 
 the small brown loaf, which he at once made 
 up his mind would be delicious, eaten as he 
 intended to eat it, seated on some pretty 
 
REVENGE, 
 
 17 
 
 1 
 
 bank by the road-side, close to a spring, that 
 he might wash it down with the clear spark- 
 ling water. So, putting the brown bread into 
 a little linen Carl again set out on his 
 
 journey. The poor widow watched him with 
 watery eyes, until having tripped across the 
 bridge, the great mill of John Arnold hid him 
 from her sight ; and then she began reckon- 
 ing the hours and minutes until he should re- 
 turn. 2no wonder, for Carl was the only son 
 of his mother, and she was a widow ; and until 
 now, amidst all the changes of her life, she had 
 never, for a single day, been separated from 
 that son. 
 
 " Harra, harra, hae, hae, harra ; at him 
 Wolf ; after him good dog ; harra, harra, that's 
 right, Wolf; make him run then, the little 
 cowardly brat of a beggar : — Harra, harra !'' 
 
 Poor Carl had flattered himself, after pass- 
 ing the great mill-gates, and reaching the far 
 end of the village, that for once, he should 
 escape the notice of his persecutor. But he 
 was too soon undeceived. At the first shout 
 of Michael Arnold, he turned round with a 
 startled countenance ; and with a feeling al- 
 most like agony, saw that not only Michael ? 
 but his dog Wolf were following after, about 
 a hundred yards behind him. CaiTs first im- 
 pulse was to run as fast as he could, to get 
 away from the miller's mischievous son. This 
 was what Michael wanted ; and though, pro- 
 bably, he meant nothing more than to give 
 the poor boy a thorough frightening, the ex- 
 citement of a regular chase soon commenced ; 
 
L 
 
 18 CAB,L THORN'S 
 
 and Wolf, though not an evil-minded dog in 
 general, appeared to enter into the sport with 
 all the keenness, if not with quite the speed 
 of a greyhound. 
 
 " Harra, Wolf, harra !" shouted Michael 
 again, at the top of his voice, and laughing 
 with savage glee to think how impotent would 
 be all Carl's attempts to outrun his pursuers. 
 Alas ! poor Carl soon perceived that he was at 
 the mercy of his enemies ; and panting with 
 terror and fatigue, he threw himself on the 
 ground despairing^, just as Wolf w r as at his 
 heels. Had he planned such a mode of escape, 
 it could not have succeeded better ; for per- 
 ceiving the chase to be ended, Wolf's natural 
 forbearance returned to him ; and instead of 
 worrying poor Carl, he contented himself with 
 sniffing around him, as he lay on the ground, 
 only growling w r hen the terrified boy attempted 
 to move. 
 
 Wolf had not sniffed long, before he dis- 
 covered that the little bag which Carl had 
 still in his hand contained something very 
 desirable for him, dog as he was, to take pos- 
 session of. Taking the bag, therefore, between 
 his teeth, with one strong pull he disengaged 
 it from Carl's hold, and without waiting for 
 his master — who, now that the chase was 
 ended, was walking leisurely towards them, 
 and laughing with all his might — the sagacious 
 dog darted off with his prize ; and, before 
 Carl had once thought of such a sudden de- 
 liverance, was almost half-way towards his 
 home. 
 
 " Harra, harra, Wolf, bring it to me, you 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 19 
 
 rascal !" shouted Wolf's master. But this 
 time, it better suited Wolf's interest to take 
 no notice of the call, except to quicken his 
 pace. This so enraged Michael, that without 
 bestowing another thought upon the still pro- 
 strate Carl, he pursued the dog, uttering loud 
 threats of vengeance, if he did not stop and 
 give up what he had stolen. Before he suc- 
 ceeded in this, however, he was in the mill- 
 yard, when puffing and panting with this 
 second chase, he at length rescued the bag. 
 " Psha," he exclaimed, " only a bit of brown 
 bread. If I had known what it was, I would 
 not have put myself to all this trouble. 
 Good dog ; catch it Wolf," added he, as he 
 disdainfully tossed the half-loaf into the dog's 
 open jaws, "Carl Thorn may thank his stars 
 at being let off so cheaply." 
 
 Whether or not Carl thanked his stars, he 
 was happy to find he had sustained no further 
 damage than the loss of his dinner, and mar- 
 velling what had become of his tormentors, he 
 slowly rose from the ground, and wiping away a 
 tear or two, which in spite of himself he had 
 not been able to suppress, he recommenced his 
 journey, thus for the second time interrupted. 
 "Never mind," said he to himself, "it is only 
 to wait a little longer. He might have left 
 me the bag, though !" 
 
 ^S^**- 
 
20 CARL THORN 9 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MORE ABOUT CARL AND HIS MOTHER. 
 
 It is a saying worth remembering by every 
 boy and girl; ay, and by every man and 
 woman too, that, " None can command suc- 
 cess, but all may deserve it." Let it be known 
 also, that there is more real satisfaction in 
 deserving success than in obtaining it without 
 
 desert. 
 
 Our friend Carl's mission to Custrin was, 
 after all, unsuccessful. Wearied in body, and 
 faint for want of food, for Mr. Rossi did not 
 invite him to dinner, he returned to his 
 mother's cottage. 
 
 First, there was a letter from Mr. Rossi. 
 The tidings it contained were very distressing. 
 The merchant of Berlin, to whom Madame 
 Thorn had intrusted all her property, had lied 
 from the country, leaving all his creditors 
 without any hope of ever receiving a single 
 dollar of all that he owed them. There was 
 not a line of hope or comfort in Mr. Rossi's 
 short note ; and no wonder that the poor 
 widow's pale and sorrow-worn countenance 
 became paler and sadder, while, bursting into 
 tears, she drew the fatherless boy closer to 
 her, and sobbed, "My poor Carl !" 
 
 Then, the goldsmith to whom she had, as 
 a last resort, sent a brooch, the last almost of 
 her former trinkets, with a request that he 
 
REVENGE. 21 
 
 would purchase it at his own price, had taken 
 advantage, as she thought, of her pressing 
 necessity, and sent five florins as the utmost 
 he could afford to give. 
 
 "Five florins !'" exclaimed the poor widow, 
 " why, ten years ago it cost me ten times five 
 florins ! H 
 
 There was, however, no help for it. Five 
 florins were better than nothing ; at least they 
 supplied her present necessities, and enabled 
 her to procure food for herself and Carl, until 
 she could decide what course to take. 
 
 In a few days it was known that the widow 
 Thorn and her son were about to leave Sprea. 
 A broker, or kind of dealer in all sorts of odds 
 and ends, had been sent for from Custrin, and 
 had purchased the whole of the widow's goods, 
 even to the dear delightful books ; and with 
 the money she received, the rent had been 
 paid, leaving a pretty well-filled purse, all 
 things considered, though with but a terribly 
 small sum, when the poor lady looked at it 
 as all in the world that was left to her, ex- 
 cept her son. 
 
 Even the miller was moved to a sort of re- 
 morse, when he found that the widow was really 
 going. He began to consider what offence she 
 had ever given him, and to think that per- 
 haps his next neighbours at the cottage might, 
 after all, be more objectionable. Such reflec- 
 tions were, however, too late for any real good, 
 and he soon dismissed them, after charging 
 Michael to desist from any further annoyance 
 to Carl, and punishing him rather severely 
 
Z2 CARL THORN 8 
 
 for the affair of the brown bread, which, some- 
 how or other, had come to his ears. Not that 
 Carl had complained ; he would have borne 
 far greater injury without complaint. If not 
 strong to resist, he was powerful to endure. 
 
 All places now seemed much alike to poor 
 Carl and his mother ; but as the hare, when 
 hunted from place to place, at length returns 
 to the retreat from which it was first driven, 
 bo the widow determined to seek once more 
 a hiding-place, if not a resting-place, in Berlin. 
 It was better at least to return thither, to see 
 what chance there might be of recovering her 
 lost property, and, if that failed, of searching 
 for some humble employment for herself and 
 her boy. It might be that she entertained a 
 faint hope of interesting some of her former 
 acquaintance in his favour : but this hope, if 
 for a moment encouraged, soon failed when 
 she remembered how complete the separation 
 
 ad for many years been between herself and 
 them. 
 
 But whatever were the widow's hopes or 
 fears, a week had scarcely passed away from 
 the time of CarVs fruitless journey to Custrin, 
 before, seated in a cheap conveyance, they were 
 slowly travelling towards Berlin. 
 
 The first anxious inquiries of the widow 
 proved the completeness of her ruin. Not a 
 single florin, she was positively assured, could 
 ever be recovered of the property of which 
 the faithless merchant had deprived her. Her 
 heart almost failed her, as, on the second day 
 after her arrival in Berlin, she proceeded with 
 
REVENGE-. 
 
 23 
 
 Carl to the part of the city where she was 
 known in prosperity, in search of some friend 
 or old acquaintance, who would assist her to 
 any employment, by which her son and 
 herself might be secured from actual want. 
 Willingly would she have avoided this trial, 
 but there seemed to be no other resource. 
 Her little stock of money was fast diminishing, 
 although she had taken lodgings in a miser- 
 able house, in the cheapest and most obscure 
 part of the city. 
 
 Joy of joys ! who should they meet but 
 Agatha — dear nurse Agatha ! . It was Agatha 
 who was the first to remember her old mis- 
 tress, and to speak. It was Agatha who soon 
 found how matters stood with that mistress 
 and her "beautiful darling Carl." And you 
 may be sure it was Agatha who said, " You 
 must go with me, and make my house your 
 home. To think that such a lady — so kind 
 and loving as you always were, and such a 
 lady as you are now, although you say you are 
 so poor, — should be wandering this weary city 
 in search of a home, while Agatha has such a 
 happy one !" 
 
 " Are you not in service, then, Agatha ?" 
 
 Oh, no ; Agatha had left service a year ago 
 and more, and was married to the best hus- 
 band in Berlin — so kind, so sober, so indus- 
 trious, that it was a pleasure to know r him, 
 much more to be his wife. 
 
 Where do you live, Agatha ? we will come 
 and see you ; but I should not think of being 
 a burden to you." 
 
 _But . A n-p. tha wns rmite resolved, that sho 
 
24 CAUL THORN 1 
 
 would not lose sight of her dear mistress and 
 Carl. She was going straight home then. It 
 was but a short half-mile from where they 
 were standing ; and sorrow and shame would 
 be her portion, if she should lose sight of her 
 old friends, if she might be bold enough to 
 call them so. "And how fortunate that I 
 should have taken that little parcel myself for 
 my husband, who is so full of work that he 
 does not know which way to turn : and what 
 a good thing I came down this street instead 
 of going up the other ?' And how rejoiced 
 she was, that she had nothing more to do but 
 to put her dear mistress in the way to her 
 home, and to walk behind her with Carl, if 
 she might take his hand, just as she used to 
 do, years and years ago. 
 
 So at length the lady consented ; what else 
 could she do ! and after walking by the side 
 of Agatha, the short half-mile, — which turned 
 out to be a long one, for ardent people are 
 bad calculators, — Carl and his mother found 
 themselves in a neat house in the outskirts of 
 Berlin, eating a better meal than they had 
 tasted for months, which Agatha, resplendent 
 with smiles and tears, to say nothing of sobs 
 and laughter, insisted upon setting before 
 them. 
 
 In less time than it takes to tell, Agatha's 
 husband had found out how matters stood, 
 and, without saying a word more than was 
 necessary, started off, just as he was, to the 
 lady's wretched lodging, and brought away 
 
 • single trunk, which contained the clothes 
 Of herself and Carl. So b , it was a 
 
REVENGE. 25 
 
 ^ 
 
 thing understood by all parties, and finally 
 settled, that Carl and his mother were to live 
 at free quarters in Agatha's house, until some- 
 thing more promising turned up for them. 
 
 It is a bold thing to take a newly-married 
 woman's word for the good qualities of her 
 husband ; but really Agatha had kept almost 
 within bounds in talking of her's. Albert, or 
 Fritz, or Albert Fritz, or Fritz Albert, — which 
 of these was the right way of calling him 
 Carl never quite understood, for he answered * 
 to them all, and any way — but one or all, he 
 was Agatha's husband, and Agatha's husband 
 was the very perfection of a model of a sober, 
 industrious mechanic, and a kind, sympathiz- 
 ing friend. Just the sort of husband, in Carl's 
 opinion, that his dear old nurse deserved. 
 
 By trade, Albert was a cabinet-maker and 
 joiner, and particularly clever in the little 
 knick-knackeries of his business, such as in 
 the making of work-boxes and dressing-cases, 
 and small articles of a similar nature. He 
 worked partly on his own account ; but the 
 excellence of his workmanship was so well 
 known, that he could always dispose of his 
 manufactures at two or three of the largest, 
 furniture-shops in Berlin. At first, no doubt, 
 it was some sacrifice to him, however freely 
 he had encountered it, to take Carl and his 
 mother into his house without any recom- 
 pense, especially as Agatha insisted they 
 should occupy her best apartment, and be 
 waited upon by her as in days gone by. But 
 after a short time, it seemed as though nothing 
 better could have ht" v . H>r all parties 
 
36 carl thorn's 
 
 than the casual meeting of Agatha and her 
 mistress, for Carl would insist upon going on 
 errands for his kind friend, carrying home his 
 work, and doing a hundred little odd jobs, 
 which saved Albert's time, which to him was 
 as good as money. And the grateful widow 
 was equally desirous and able to assist, with 
 her taste and genius, in forming fresh designs 
 for her protector, as well as in finishing-off 
 I some parts of his work, which needed a 
 female's skill and tact, for which before, he 
 had been compelled to pay rather dearly. In 
 process of time, too, Carl advanced to higher 
 employment in the workshop than that of 
 running on errands. His industry, know- 
 ledge, and tractability were now producing 
 their natural good fruits ; and before many 
 months were over, he earned his own and his 
 mother's expenses, over and over again. 
 
 Some English boys in Carl's circumstances, 
 would, we fear, think themselves degraded 
 by working as mechanics. Perhaps they 
 would say something like this,—" My father 
 was a gentleman, and I will starve rather 
 than stoop to such a low employment." 
 But, happily for him, Carl's mother had had 
 the good sense to teach him, from his very 
 childhood, that nothing but what is dis- 
 honourable, is mean and disgraceful. She 
 had taken pains, too, to impress upon his 
 mind that he had little in life to depend upon 
 but his own industry. It had often been a 
 source of anxiety to her, what she should do 
 with h^r son when his boyhood had passed; 
 
 irl instead of lamenting the loss of her little 
 
 o-ni 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 27 
 
 property, which had driven her from her quiet 
 home at Sprea, she soon came to look upon it 
 as the best thing that could have happened. 
 
 > It is true, Carl would have preferred some 
 kind of work to have given more employ- 
 ment to his active mind : but he took care not 
 to lose what knowledge he had gained. He 
 had still many long evenings alone with his 
 mother, and as their circumstances became 
 gradually more easy, Carl had soon a store of 
 books again at his command. 
 
 But Agatha— was it not very selfish of her 
 and of Albert too, after offering a home to the 
 poor widow lady and her son, to allow them 
 to work at such a trade ? Not at all : even if 
 they couid have prevented it, which they 
 could not ; for the only terms on which Carl 
 and his mother would consent to remain with 
 their kind old servant, were that they should 
 be permitted to work. As soon, therefore, as 
 Carl became really useful, and was entitled to 
 receive money, he insisted upon paying, not 
 only the present and future expenses of his 
 mother and himself, but as far as money could 
 do so, for past kindness. This, however, was 
 a work of time, and we cannot afford room to 
 trace the progress of the industrious lad step 
 by step, for we have much more yet to write 
 about other persons. 
 
28 
 
 CARL THORN S 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A SCENE IN A PAL At 
 
 Frederick, the King of Prussia, was hasty and 
 positive ; but not intentionally unjust. Before 
 he became king, he had been harshly treated 
 by his father, who had very little regard for 
 any person besides himself. So unkindly had 
 the young prince been used, that once he de- 
 termined to leave his father's kingdom, and 
 take refuge in England ; but this design was 
 discovered, and an unfortunate officer who 
 was trusted with the secret, was put to death 
 for not having revealed it. After this, Prince 
 Frederick had been compelled to marry a lady 
 for whom he had no affection ; and, in every 
 other way, he was thwarted by his severe and 
 arbitrary father. 
 
 In two respects, this early training had 
 been of some use to Frederick, though the same 
 effects might have been produced gentler 
 methods. For one thing, it had driven him 
 to seek pleasure in reading and study, and 
 the practice of several useful arts. For 
 another, it had taught him to dislike ty- 
 ranny, and prepared him to become a much 
 milder and more amiable monarch than his 
 father had been. 
 
 As soon as he became king of Prussia, 
 which was in 1740, he distinguished himself 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 29 
 
 by many acts of generosity, which procured 
 for him the affection of his subjects. We wiD 
 mention one of these, though it has nothing to 
 do with our story, except as it will give our 
 readers a better opinion of King Frederick, 
 than had, at one time, our friend Carl Thorn. 
 The great pride of the old king had been 
 to have a large army ; and it was his custom, 
 
 I when he saw a boy whose appearance he liked, 
 to order an account to be taken of him, and a 
 badge to be put round his neck, by which he 
 was marked for the king's service, while the 
 poor boy's parents were forbidden to train 
 him for any other business than that of a 
 soldier. Soon after Frederick became king, as 
 he was passing from Berlin to Potsdam, a 
 large number of these boys met him, sur- 
 rounding his coach, and crying out, " Merciful 
 King, deliver us from our slavery !' : This 
 pitiful prayer touched the young king's com- 
 passion, and he directly ordered the hateful 
 badges to be taken ofx, and set the poor 
 boys free. 
 
 One great fault, however, in Frederick was, 
 that he was very ambitious, and, in the early 
 part of his reign, made unjust wars upon his 
 neighbours. But in the later years of his life, 
 he was a mild and benevolent sovereign, de- 
 voting himself to the real welfare of his people. 
 
 Carl Thorn, the father of our Carl, was a 
 principal secretary in King Frederick's war- 
 office, during part of his reign ; and, as the 
 reader has been told, was hastily dismissed 
 on some suspicion of having been unfaithful 
 to the monarch. Carl had always been quite 
 
r 
 
 30 CARL THORN'S 
 
 eure of his father's innocence ; and Carl was 
 right. 
 
 It happened one day, about the time that 
 Carl and his mother were wandering, as they 
 thought, forlorn and friendless, in the streets 
 of Berlin, before they met with Agatha, that 
 the king had made a discovery which proved 
 to him how entirely he had been mistaken in 
 his suspicions. His first emotion was sorrow 
 for having so hastily dismissed a faithful and 
 useful servant ; and his next proceeding was 
 to inquire where the injured man could then 
 be found. But Frederick discovered — what 
 every body in the world finds — that it is easier 
 to commit an unjust action than to repair 
 it. He could gain no certain tidings of the 
 missing secretary, and after a few more 
 fi uitless exertions, the matter passed from 
 his mind. 
 
 About six years after this, the affair was 
 brought afresh into the king's recollection by 
 a singular circumstance. A curious dressing- 
 case had been purchased for him ; and on 
 opening a small drawer which it contained, 
 Frederick found a strip of paper, on which 
 were written a few sentences in Latin, signed 
 with the name, " Carl Thorn." 
 
 At first, the king thought that the paper 
 was put there by some one with a design to 
 reproach him for his past injustice ; but after 
 a little consideration, the idea was dismissed. 
 The dressing-case had come directly from the 
 shop in which it was bought. Those who sold 
 ft had no knowledge of the purchaser ; an\~ it 
 
REVENGE. 31 
 
 had passed through the hands of no one but 
 his own valet. Besides, the Latin sentences 
 had no connexion with Carl Thorn ; and the 
 paper itself seemed like a Latin exercise, 
 rather than any thing else. 
 
 There was, however, something in the hand- 
 writing which put Frederick in mind of his 
 poor secretary ; so that he almost believed it 
 to have been written by him. At all events, 
 without further delay, the king determined 
 not to rest until he discovered the writer. 
 
 Albert Fritz and Carl were busily engaged 
 in their workshop, when a carriage stopped at 
 the door. From the carriage stepped out a 
 well-dressed stranger. In another moment, 
 the stranger was standing in the workshop. 
 
 "There is here a workman named Carl 
 Thorn, is there not ?" 
 
 Carl answered to the inquiry. 
 
 " You will have the kindness," the stranger 
 continued, " to accompany me." 
 
 The natural response of the youn^ man was. 
 | Whither T 
 
 "It is of little consequence," replied the 
 gentleman, "the business on which you are 
 required will not probably take long to trans- 
 act; but it is necessary for you to go with 
 me without delay." 
 
 Carl hesitated ; but the tone of the stranger 
 
 though polite, was firm, and as the young 
 
 [workman had no reason to suppose any mis- 
 
 jchief could be intended against him ; he after 
 
 > moment's thought, merely requested the 
 
 messenger to wait while he changed his gar- 
 
32 
 
 CARL THORN'S 
 
 ments ; but this the stranger declared to be 
 unnecessary. 
 
 " At least/' said Carl, " you will allow me 
 to wash my hands V 
 
 " Certainly/' replied the positive gentle- 
 man. — In less than ten minutes, the carriage 
 was driven rapidly up the street, leaving Fritz 
 more than a little amazed at being thus mys- 
 teriously left alone in his workshop. 
 
 Y£M\ 
 
 3§J=S 
 
 Carl's surprise at finding himself so sud- 
 denly transferred from a work-bench to a car- 
 riage, was not so great as to prevent a smile at 
 the contrast presented between his coarse and 
 not over-clean linen jacket, and the costly 
 cushions on which he was seated. But the 
 companion of his ride appeared .not to notice 
 this. Indeed, having succeeded in his object, 
 this strange gentleman seemed to consider his 
 part of the business done ; and, throwing him- 
 
REVENGE. 33 
 
 self back in the carriage, was soon lost either 
 in profound meditation or deep slumber. 
 
 On — on — whirled the carriage. Nearly an 
 hour had passed, during which time Carl had 
 lost sight of that part of the city with which 
 he was familiar ; and had entered a quarter 
 which was to him quite unknown. Suddenly, 
 leaving the main streets, the carriage turned 
 down an obscure lane, passed through one or 
 two intricate passages, entered a spacious 
 court-yard, and then stopped. At the same 
 moment, the stranger awoke, or appeared to 
 wake out of his sleep, and springing from the 
 carriage, requested Carl to follow him. Enter- 
 ing what appeared to be the inferior offices of 
 a large house, they passed onwards, uninter- 
 rupted in their progress by any of the persons 
 they encountered, until Carl's conductor 
 tapped at a door, which was immediately 
 opened to them by a young man, who, bowing 
 respectfully, led them through a large and 
 well-furnished apartment to a smaller room, 
 into which, after a few moments' delay, Carl 
 was directed to enter alone. 
 
 Standing by a table in that room, he saw a 
 gentleman in a plain military dress, evidently 
 expecting the visit, for without further intro- 
 duction, after a sharp, quick glance at the 
 young workman, he asked, — 
 
 " Are you Carl Thorn ?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir." 
 
 " And the writer of this paper ?" producing 
 a slip of manuscript, which Carl immediately 
 recognised as a part of a Latin e cercise 
 which two or three weeks before hivd beeu 
 
34 carl thorn's 
 
 Lis evening study. He at once acknowledged 
 this. 
 
 " Are you aware how it came into my pos- 
 session ? inquired the gentleman. 
 
 " Certainly not;" was the reply. "And 
 yet/' he continued, " perhaps I can account 
 for it. I see on it some figures which I 
 remember as part of a calculation I made 
 respecting the dimensions of a dressing-case 
 on which I was employed. The paper must 
 accidentally have been left in that case." 
 
 " True," remarked the questioner, " it was 
 in a dressing-case that paper was found." 
 
 Carl began to apologise for his carelessness, 
 though in his heart he thought it a paltry 
 affair to have occasioned such a stir. The 
 gentleman seemed to guess what was passing 
 in his mind. 
 
 " Well, well," said he, " I only wished to 
 
 know you as the writer. It matters not. But, 
 
 pray, have you been long engaged in making 
 
 this sort of thing ?" pointing to the dressing- 
 
 I case, which, for the first time, Carl observed 
 
 j on the table. 
 
 " Some years, sir." 
 
 " Urn ! Your father then, is a mechanic, 
 
 perhaps ?" 
 
 " No, sir," replied Carl. 
 
 " What then !" asked the gentleman, rather 
 
 sharply. 
 
 " I have no father, sir ; he died when I was 
 
 a child." 
 
 The stranger made no direct reply, but took 
 a huge pinch of snuff, which, however, made 
 no impression on his nerves. 
 
REVENGE. 35 
 
 " What then was your father ?" 
 
 Carl hesitated for a moment, and looked 
 keenly at the inquisitive personage. Their 
 eyes met, and there was something in the 
 glance of the gentleman, that encouraged Carl 
 to answer, — 
 
 "My father was one of his Majesty's secre- 
 taries, sir ; but this was a great many years 
 ago." 
 
 Another tremendous pinch of snuff. 
 
 " Well, young man, you can write, and you 
 dabble m Latin, I see. What else do vou 
 know?" J 
 
 Carl answered modestly, but with becoming 
 spirit, that he was indebted to his mother's 
 instructions for many things which otherwise 
 he could never have learned. 
 
 " But why make a mechanic of you ? Your 
 father, it seems, was a gentleman ; you should 
 have" 
 
 " Pardon me, sir," returned Carl, " we had 
 no resources. My mother's property, little as 
 it was. was all lost six years ago ; and but 
 for the kindness of an old domestic, we should 
 now be entirely destitute." 
 
 The stranger must have been very fond of 
 snuff, for at this part of the conversation, he 
 took another vast pinch. 
 
 Your father, you say, was the king's 
 secretary. Well ?" 
 
 "Sir, I do not understand you," replied 
 
 " How did he lose his post ?" 
 " He was dismissed, sir." 
 Young man, the kW dops not dicmi^ hi* 
 
36 carl thorn's 
 
 servants without cause Your father must 
 have misbehaved himself.* 
 
 " Sir," replied Carl, " I have answered all 
 your questions without reserve ; but permit 
 me to say, my father's honour is dear to me. 
 You have no right to put me to the pain of 
 hearing it lightly spoken of." 
 
 " You think, then, — am I so to understand 
 you ? — that your father did not deserve the 
 treatment he met with i" 
 
 " I am sure," was Carl's answer, "that the 
 king was greatly mistaken." 
 
 " Urn ! — a delicate way of saying that the 
 king committed a great piece of injustice. 
 Carl Thorn," here the stranger placed himself 
 directly opposite the young man, and fixed 
 another of his penetrating looks upon him, 
 " do you know me V 
 
 " No, sir," Carl calmly replied. 
 
 " Very well," said the mysterious stranger, 
 " I thank you for this interview, and I trust 
 we shall one day, and soon, be better ac- 
 quainted." He rang a bell. " You will now 
 retire with my servant ; shortly you may ex- 
 pect to hear from me." 
 
 The last sound Carl heard, as he left the 
 room, was the noise made by his new acquain- 
 tance, in taking another of his astonishing 
 pinches of snuff. 
 
REVENGE. 37 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AFFAIRS OF IMPORTANCE IN THE VILLAGE. 
 
 We have now to request our readers to sup- 
 pose twenty years to have passed away, since 
 the afflicted widow Thorn and her son were 
 driven from their cottage at Sprea. 
 
 Twenty years make great alterations every 
 where. Even the little Prussian village had 
 not escaped the touch of time. 
 
 For one thing, it had obtained a new owner. 
 The old Count Stettin had been some time 
 dead, and his successor had made great altera- 
 tions in the no longer deserted chateau. Very 
 extensive improvements had been made in 
 the building, and many were still going on in 
 the grounds by which it was surrounded. 
 
 The old mill stood where it did, and its 
 large water-wheel still unceasingly rolled 
 its accustomed round, but it also had a ne*7 
 master. This was Michael Arnold, now a 
 sturdy, laughter-loving, but industrious man, 
 of two or three-and-thirty years of age. Al- 
 most as a matter of course, he was married, 
 and the mill-yard resounded all day long with 
 the shouts, and often with the loud conten- 
 tions of numerous and not remarkably docile 
 children. There was a " Wolf," too, to guard 
 the miller's premises ; but our former ac- 
 quaintance of that name had long passed out 
 of mind. 
 
38 CARL THORN'S 
 
 John Arnold was yet living ; and where, 
 but in the white cottage over the water ?— 
 which looked much as it did of yore, only far 
 less neat, and therefore less pleasing. John 
 himself was sadly altered. He looked much 
 older than his years would have given warrant 
 for, and a settled gloom rested on him. lie 
 had, six years before, parted with the lease of 
 the mill to his son, reserving to himself the 
 right of living rent-free in the old house. 
 But this arrangement had not been found to 
 answer at all ; so, though with much regret, 
 he had abandoned the home of his younger 
 days. The whole village beside was altered 
 Many of the villagers were dead, others had 
 migrated, a new race had sprung up, eotta 
 had been pulled down, others had been built 
 by the new proprietor. Altogether, it did not 
 appear the same Sprea as of old. 
 
 We shsfll now gain a little relief from the 
 toil of continuing this story in our own words, 
 by giving 
 
 An extract from a newspaper of the year 1780. 
 
 " One Michael Arnold," says this authority, " held the 
 
 lease of a mill belonging to the estate of Count S , i. 
 
 the town of Custrin. This mill, at the time when Mr. 
 Arnold obtained possession of the lease, was plentifully 
 supplied with water, which empties itself into the r 
 Wartha. During six years, Mr. Arnold had made various 
 improvements in the said mill, and, by means of his b 
 and industry, had been enabled to pay his rent regulai 
 and to acquire a sufficiency for the maintenance of 
 family. At the end of that period, about four years 
 the proprietor of the mill resolved to enlarge a fish-pond 
 

 KEVENGE. 39 
 
 near his seat, and caused a canal to be cut from the said 
 rivulet, at a small distance above the mill, to supply his 
 fish-pond with water. By this means the current of the 
 stream was lessened, and the quantity of water so much 
 diminished, that the mill could no longer do the usual work. 
 
 " The miller had foreseen the event, and from the be- 
 ginning had remonstrated against the cutting of the canal. 
 But his remonstrances, as well as Ids solicitations for can- 
 celling the lease, proved in vain ; and he was at last forced 
 to seek redress in a court of justice at Custrin. But his 
 lord, being a man of fortune and consequence in that pro- 
 vince, soon found means to frustrate his endeavours. He 
 continued to enlarge his fish-pond, so that the miller, in- 
 stead of obtaining redress, found the water daily decreasing 
 to such a degree, that at last he could only work during two 
 or three weeks in spring, and about as many in the latter 
 part of the year. 
 
 " Under these circumstances, the miller could no longer 
 procure his livelihood, and pay his rent, and consequently, 
 became indebted to his lord for a considerable sum. The 
 latter, in order to obtain his rent, entered a suit against 
 him in the same court of law at Custrin, which had before 
 refused relief to the miller, and soon obtained a sentence 
 against the miller's effects ; which sentence being approved 
 and r<\tified in the high court of appeal at Berlin, was put 
 into execution. Michael Arnold's lease, utensils, goods, and 
 chattels, were seized and sold, in order to pay the arrears 
 of rent, and the expenses of a most unjust lawsuit. 
 Thus poor Arnold and his family were reduced from com- 
 fort to want and wretchedness." 
 
40 CARL THORN'S 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TUE STORY COMES TO AN END. 
 
 We must turn again to Berlin. This time we 
 shall enter a large mansion in one of the prin- 
 cipal streets of the city, It is a winter's 
 evening, and in a well-lighted and beautifully 
 warm apartment are two of our old friends, 
 and some new ones. 
 
 First, there is an elderly lady seated on a 
 comfortable couch, employed in some kind of 
 needlework, and looking very happy as she 
 keeps up an animated conversation with one 
 much younger than herself, whom we may 
 suppose is the mother of the infant she nurses 
 in her arms, as well as of two other children 
 in the room. The young lady we have never 
 met before ; but it needs not a second glance 
 to tell us, that the elderly one is the widow, but 
 certainly no longer the poor widow, Thorn. 
 
 Very near them, but at a separate table, is 
 a gentleman, perhaps about thirty-five years 
 of age, or a few thoughts older. He has, how- 
 ever, no very sad thoughts now to deepen his 
 wrinkles, if we may judge so from the hearty 
 manner in which he is amusing the two boys, 
 who, one on his knee, and the other standing 
 close by, are listening to a story he is telling 
 them, in a comical sort of way, about a dog 
 who ran away with a poor boy's dinner ; and 
 
ItEVENQE. 41 
 
 how the poor boy had nothing to eat till he 
 got home again. 
 
 It must surely be our friend Carl ; for who 
 else could know any thing about it '] 
 
 Yes, indeed, it is Carl — rich Carl Thorn, — 
 the great advocate, and one of King Frederick's 
 most trusted advisers. We may take for 
 granted that the young lady is his wife, and 
 that he is the happy father of three happy 
 children. 
 
 Of course this is a very agreeable part of 
 our story ; and, perhaps some of our readers 
 guessed that something like this would come 
 to pass when they last took leave of poor Carl, 
 as lie took leave of the snuff-taking gentle- 
 man, whom they knew to be the King of 
 Prussia, though he did not. But it must be 
 told, that Carl's own industry and persever- 
 ance had done quite as much for him as the 
 King's favour : — ay, and more ; for if Frederick 
 had not formed a good opinion of the poor lad 
 in the working-jacket, he would not have sent 
 him soon afterwards to the University of 
 Berlin ; and if Carl had not worked hard, 
 very hard, while there, he would not have 
 gained much success in his profession. And 
 if Carl's principles had not been as good as 
 his industry was great, he would never have 
 risen as he had done in the esteem of his 
 royal patron. Carl Thorn had indeed gained 
 the palm ; but not without labour. 
 
 " Another story, papa ;" said the eldest boy, 
 when Mr. Thorn Had quite finished the history 
 of the poor boy, who was robbed of his dinner. 
 
42 CARL THORN S 
 
 But before he could think of this other story, 
 the door opened, and in stepped, who but 
 Agatha ! 
 
 To be sure all stories were laid aside and 
 forgotten, when " good nurse Agatha, kind 
 nurse Agatha," made her appearance. Who 
 was the best pleased of all the group, it would 
 be hard to tell. 
 
 Agatha seemed somehow to have been ex- 
 pected by the ladies, and especially by Mr. 
 Thorn ; and as soon as the youngsters could 
 be dismissed, a serious conversation took 
 place. It referred to some poor man who 
 had suffered great injustice, and whose case 
 Mr. Thorn had taken up without expectation 
 of reward, except the approval of a good 
 conscience. That poor man was Michael 
 Arnold. 
 
 It was quite accidentally that the busy 
 lawyer had heard of Michael's misfortun 
 and he had at first made inquiries respecting 
 the nature of them with a view to giving him 
 some relief in money. But when made ac- 
 quainted with all the circumstances of his 
 case, he determined on a more efficient mode 
 of being revenged on the enemy of his boyhood. 
 For this purpose he had, without making him- 
 self known, managed to have Michael enticed 
 to Berlin, with a promise that the whole 
 matter should be laid before the king, who 
 was really desirous of doing justice to all. 
 When he arrived in Berlin, Mr. Thorn con- 
 trived that a lodging should be provided for 
 him at his old friend Agatha's house, and that 
 «ho herself should be the bearer of all com- 
 
REVENGE. 43 
 
 munications between the advocate and his 
 poor client. 
 
 " And you are sure, Agatha, you have not 
 mentioned my name to the poor miller J" 
 
 " No, sir, and I am sure he does not at all 
 guess who it is has come forward as his friend. 
 Indeed, if he heard your name, I do not think 
 he would be any the wiser. He does not seem 
 to have much recollection of anything but 
 what relates to his mill." 
 
 " At any rate," remarked the younger lady, 
 " he could scarcely recognise the little Carl 
 Thorn of Sprea, in the great councillor Thorn 
 of Berlin." 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but we will not try him. 
 It would only embitter his present sufferings 
 to be put in mind of the unprovoked cruelty 
 of his boyhood. To have my full revenge 
 upon him, he must at present know me only 
 as his advocate. Well Agatha, you may tell 
 him that I have carefully looked over all his 
 papers, and am convinced that the right is on 
 his side. He has powerful enemies though ; 
 but with the king's help, we shall gain the 
 day. To-morrow I shall lay the narrative I 
 have drawn up from the papers before his 
 Majesty." 
 
 We shall now give another of our old 
 newspaper readings : — 
 
 " His Majesty, struck with the simplicity of the narrative, 
 and the injustice that had apparently been committed, re- 
 solved to inquire minutely into the affair, and if the miller's 
 assertions were founded in truth, to punish, in an exemplary 
 manner, the authors and promoters of such an unjust sen- 
 tence. 
 
 I " The king accordingly made inquiries, and the mfo»> 
 
44 carl thorn's 
 
 mations he received, corroborated the miller's narrative. 
 His Majesty afterwards ordered the registers of his high 
 court of appeals, as also all the memorials and pleadings of 
 the lawsuit to be laid before him, which he revised, with the 
 assistance of an eminent lawyer. And that nothing might 
 be wanting, his Majesty sent a person of confidence to Cus- 
 trin, with orders to survey the said mill, the rivulet, and 
 the new canal, and also to inquire into the miller's cha- 
 racter, his former situation in life, the true cause of his 
 failure, and all other circumstances attending this affair. 
 And after being well convinced that the sentence against 
 Michael Arnold, was an act of the most singular oppression, 
 the King immediately formed his resolution. 
 
 " The next day, the king ordered his high chancellor and 
 the three counsellors who naJ signed the sentence against 
 Michael Arnold, into his cabinet; and, on their arrival, 
 put the following questions to them. 
 
 " The King.—' When a lord takes from a peasant who 
 rents a piece of ground under him, his wagon, horse, plough, 
 and other utensils, by which he earns his living, and is 
 thereby prevented from paying his rent, can a sentence be 
 in justice pronounced upon that peasant?' 
 " They all answered, ■ No, it could not.' 
 44 The King.— 1 " Can a like sentence be pronounced upon a 
 miller for nonpayment of rent for a mill, after the water, 
 which used to turn his mill, is wilfully taken from him by 
 the proprietor of the mill ?' 
 
 44 They also answered in the negative. 
 44 4 Then,' said the king, 4 you have yourselves acknow- 
 ledged the injustice you have committed. Here is the case : — 
 A nobleman, in order to enlarge his fish-pond, has caused 
 a canal to be cut, to receive more water from a rivulet which 
 used to turn a mill. By this means the miller lost his 
 water, and could not work his mill. Notwithstanding 
 which, it is expected that he shall pay his rent as before, 
 when the mill was plentifully supplied with water : but as 
 this was out of his power, the court at Custrin decreed that 
 the miller's effects should be sold to pay the arrears of rent. 
 This sentence was sent to the high court of appeals, and 
 was conSrmed and signed by you. Since when it has been 
 executed.' 
 
 " Here the king ordered the sentence, with their signa- 
 
UEVENGE. 46 
 
 tures to be laid before them, and afterwards commanded his 
 private secretary to read the resolution which he himself 
 had prepared and signed, and which is as follows :— 
 
 " ■ The sentence decreed against the miller Arnold, being 
 an act of the most singular injustice, and entirely opposed to 
 the paternal intentions of his Majesty, whose desire is that im- 
 partial justice be speedily administered to all his subjects, 
 whether rich or poor, without regard to rank or person ; 
 his Majesty, in order to prevent similar iniquities for the 
 future, is resolved to punish, in an exemplary manner, the 
 authors of that unjust sentence, and to establish an example 
 for the future conduct of judges and magistrates in his 
 dominions. For they are all to consider that the meanest 
 peasant, nay, even the beggar, is a man as well as the 
 king, and consequently equally entitled to impartial jus- 
 tice, especially, as in the presence of justice, all are equal, 
 whether it be a prince who brings a complaint against a 
 peasant, or a peasant who prefers one against a prince. 
 This ought to be a rule for the conduct of judges; and if 
 the courts of law in his dominions should ever deviate from 
 this principle, they may depend upon being severely 
 punished: for unjust judges are more dangerous than a 
 band of robbers ; they are the worst of ill-doers, and deserve 
 double shame. 
 
 " After the reading of the above, the king told the chan- 
 cellor that he had no further occasion for his services, and 
 ordered them all to withdraw. He also sent immediate 
 orders to Custrin, for the president and judges who had de- 
 creed the unjust sentence in the first instance to be arrested, 
 and proceeded against according to law. 
 
 " His Majesty, also, in consideration of the miller's losses 
 and sufferings.presented him with the sum of l r )00 rix-dollars. 
 He also ordered that a sum, equal to that produced by the 
 sale of the miller's effects, should be stopped, and paid to 
 him, from the salaries due to the judges who had any share 
 in that unjust sentence. He, moreover, condemned the 
 Proprietor of the mill to pay back to the miller all the 
 rent he had received from the time he opened the canal." 
 
 " Well, Thorn," said the king, one day soon 
 afterwards, fro the successful advocate, " we 
 
46 CARL THORN S 
 
 have made a man of your miller again ; and 
 certainly he had been badly used, and de- 
 served justice from us ; but tell me what made 
 you take such an interest in his affairs 1 I tell 
 you frankly, that you have made yourself some 
 enemies by bringing the matter before me. I 
 suppose the man was one of your early friends, 
 like— - w hat is nis name ? — Fritz, the joiner, 
 for whom you have done so much 1 — is that 
 
 it?" 
 
 "No, sire," answered Carl, " it is not. When 
 a poor helpless boy, I suffered much from the 
 persecutions of Michael Arnold. He was my 
 bitter foe." 
 
 " Eh, what !" exclaimed Frederick. 
 
 " My bitter enemy, may it please your 
 Majesty. Until this affair happened, I have 
 had no opportunity of retaliating ; but now, 
 I have taken my full revenge" 
 
 Frederick the Great, for by that title is the 
 old king known in history, made no reply ; 
 but he took a mighty pinch of snuff. 
 
 It was some years before Michael Arnold 
 knew certainly who had been his benefactor. 
 But shortly after the death of the king, which 
 happened in 1786, Carl Thorn, foreseeing that 
 changes would take place in the government 
 which he could not approve, and which might 
 involve him in ruin, determined to retire 
 from public life. Just at that time, the estate 
 of Count Stettin at Sprea, was announced for 
 
REVENGE. 47 
 
 sale ; and of Sprea, notwithstanding his early 
 trials, Carl had always had a pleasing remem- 
 brance. It was there that he had enjoyed the 
 beauties of nature ; and there, too, he had 
 learned those lessons from his mother's lips, 
 which had tended so much to his happiness 
 and prosperity in life. 
 
 Carl had not laid by a princely fortune, but 
 he had saved property enough to purchase 
 that portion of the Stettin estate, on which 
 were the old mill and the little cottage, which 
 was at the time without a tenant, for old 
 John Arnold had been dead some months. 
 On taking possession of this property, Carl 
 had not the heart to pull down the dear old 
 abode of his childhood ; but without disturb- 
 ing that, he made such enlargements as were 
 necessary for his family, not forgetting to add 
 to the little garden a large piece of ground 
 adjoining. 
 
 It was a happy day for Carl when all was 
 completed, and he brought his wife and 
 children to their new home. His mother was 
 still among them ; and if her eyes filled with 
 tears as she stepped from the carriage and 
 entered the house, leaning upon the arm of 
 her son, they were tears of gratitude and hap- 
 piness — not of grief. 
 
 Agatha was there too. Her presence was 
 considered quite indispensable to help in ar- 
 ranging the furniture, which, by the wary, all 
 came from Albert's manufactory, and in super- 
 intending every thing, till the family were 
 quietly settled down. And she did not leave 
 Sprea without making a decided rg^miise-fci. 
 
48 
 
 CARL THORNS REVENGE. 
 
 pay at least one long visit every year to her 
 old friends. 
 
 Of course, Agatha could not be at Sprea, 
 without paying a visit to an old lodger of 
 her's, — one .Michael Arnold : and then, some- 
 how or other, the miller learned for the first 
 time that his new landlord was no other than 
 the kind lawyer who had saved him from 
 ruin, and that that lawyer was the same with 
 the little persecuted Carl Thorn. 
 
 What his feelings were on making this dis- 
 covery, must be left to the fancy of our 
 readers ; but we have to tell, that thence- 
 forth Carl Thorn and Michael Arnold were 
 the best neighbours rivulet ever parted ; and 
 that, to the end of his life, Michael had one 
 favourite saying, which probably he picked 
 out of some old book — we have seen it some- 
 where ourselves, — iC BE not overcome of evil; 
 
 BUT OVERCOME EVIL WITH GOOD." 
 
 i, <^E%*y< 
 
 
 
 .' 
 
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 ■At _*-"■" 
 
 Gkoo as, Printers, Exeter-street, Strand.