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Chapter 1 Pg 1

Nothing Is So Boundless As The Sea,  Nothing So Patient. On Its Broad

Back It Bears,  Like A Good-Natured Elephant,  The Tiny Mannikins Which

Tread The Earth; And In Its Vast Cool Depths It Has Place For All Mortal

Woes. It Is Not True That The Sea Is Faithless,  For It Has Never

Promised Anything; Without Claim,  Without Obligation,  Free,  Pure,  And

Genuine Beats The Mighty Heart,  The Last Sound One In an Ailing World.

And While The Mannikins Strain Their Eyes Over It,  The Sea Sings Its Old

Song. Many Understand It Scarce At All,  But Never Two Understand It In

The Same Manner,  For The Sea Has A Distinct Word For Each One That Sets

Himself Face To Face With It.

 

It Smiles With Green Shining Ripples To The Barelegged Urchin Who

Catches Crabs; It Breaks In blue Billows Against The Ship,  And Sends The

Fresh Salt Spray Far In Over The Deck. Heavy Leaden Seas Come Rolling In

On The Beach,  And While The Weary Eye Follows The Long Hoary Breakers,

The Stripes Of Foam Wash Up In Sparkling Curves Over The Even Sand; And

In The Hollow Sound,  When The Billows Roll Over For The Last Time,  There

Is Something Of A Hidden Understanding--Each Thinks On His Own Life,  And

Bows His Head Towards The Ocean As If It Were A Friend Who Knows It All

And Keeps It Fast.

 

But What The Sea Is For Those Who Live Along Its Strand None Can Ever

Know,  For They Say Nothing. They Live All Their Life With Face Turned To

The Ocean; The Sea Is Their Companion,  Their Adviser,  Their Friend And

Their Enemy,  Their Inheritance And Their Churchyard. The Relation

Therefore Remains A Silent One,  And The Look Which Gazes Over The Sea

Changes With Its Varying Aspect,  Now Comforting,  Now Half Fearful And

Defiant. But Take One Of These Shore-Dwellers,  And Move Him Far Landward

Among The Mountains,  Into The Loveliest Valley You Can Find; Give Him

The Best Food,  And The Softest Bed. He Will Not Touch Your Food,  Or

Sleep In Your Bed,  But Without Turning His Head He Will Clamber From

Hill To Hill,  Until Far Off His Eye Catches Something Blue He Knows,  And

With Swelling Heart He Gazes Towards The Little Azure Streak That Shines

Far Away,  Until It Grows Into A Blue Glittering Horizon; But He Says

Nothing.

 

Chapter 1 Pg 2

People In The Town Often Said To Richard Garman,  "How Can You Endure

That Lonely Life Out There In Your Lighthouse?" The Old Gentleman Always

Answered,  "Well,  You See,  One Never Feels Lonely By The Sea When Once

One Has Made Its Acquaintance; And Besides,  I Have My Little Madeleine."

 

And That Was The Feeling Of His Heart. The Ten Years He Had Passed Out

There On The Lonely Coast Were Among The Best Of His Life,  And That Life

Had Been Wild And Adventurous Enough; So,  Whether He Was Now Weary Of

The World,  Or Whether It Was His Little Daughter,  Or Whether It Was The

Sea That Attracted Him,  Or Whether It Was Something Of All Three,  He Had

Quieted Down,  And Never Once Thought Of Leaving The Lighthouse Of

Bratvold. This Was What No One Could Have Credited; And When It Was

Rumoured That Richard Garman,  The _Attache_,  A Son Of The First

Commercial Family Of The Town,  Was Seeking The Simple Post Of

Lighthouse-Keeper,  Most People Were Inclined To Laugh Heartily At This

New Fancy Of "The Mad Student." "The Mad Student" Was A Nickname In The

Town For Richard Garman,  Which Was Doubtless Well Earned; For Although

He Had Been But Little At Home Since He Had Grown To Manhood,  Enough Was

Known Of His Wild And Pleasure-Seeking Career To Make Folks Regard Him

With Silent Wonder.

 

To Add To This,  Too,  The Visits He Paid To His Home Were Generally

Coincident With Some Remarkable Event Or Another. Thus It Was When,  As A

Young Student,  He Was Present At His Mother'S Funeral; And Even More So

When He Came At A Break-Neck Pace From Paris To The Death-Bed Of The Old

Consul,  In a Costume And With An Air Which Took Away The Breath Of The

Ladies,  And Caused Confusion Among The Men. Since Then Richard Had Been

But Little Seen. Rumour,  However,  Was Busy With Him. At One Time Some

Commercial Traveller Had Seen Him At Zinck'S Hotel At Hamburg; Now He

Was Living In a Palace; And Now The Story Was That He Was Existing In

The Docks,  And Writing Sailors' Letters For A Glass Of Beer.

 

One Fine Day Garman And Worse'S Heavy State Carriage Was Seen On Its Way

To The Quay. Inside Sat The Head Of The Firm,  Consul C.F. Garman,  And

His Daughter Rachel,  While Little Gabriel,  His Younger Son,  Was Sitting

By The Side Of The Coachman. An Unbearable Curiosity Agitated The Groups

On The Quay.

 

The State Carriage Was Seldom To Be Seen In The Town,  And Now At This

Very Moment The Hamburg Steamer Was Expected. At Length An _Employe_ Of

The Firm Came To The Carriage Window,  And,  After A Few Irrelevant

Remarks,  Ventured To Ask Who Was Coming.

 

"I Am Expecting My Brother The _Attache_,  And His Daughter," Answered

Consul Garman,  While With A Movement Peculiar To Himself He Adjusted His

Smoothly Shaven Chin In His Stiff Neckcloth.

 

This Information Increased The Excitement. Richard Garman Was Coming,

"The Mad Student," "The _Attache_" As He Was Sometimes Called; And With

A Daughter,  Too! But How Could They Belong To Each Other? Could He Ever

Have Been Really Married? It Was Hardly Likely.

 

The Steamer Came. Consul Garman Went On Board,  And Returned Shortly

After With His Brother And A Little Dark-Haired Girl,  Who Doubtless Was

The Daughter.

Chapter 1 Pg 3

Richard Garman Was Soon Recognized,  Although He Had Grown Somewhat

Stouter: But The Upright,  Elegant Bearing And The Striking Black

Moustache Were Still The Same; While The Hair,  Though Crisp And Curling

As In The Old Days,  Was Now Slightly Necked With Grey At The Temples. He

Greeted Them All With A Friendly Smile As He Passed To The Carriage,  And

There Was More Than One Lady Who Felt That The Glance Of His Bright

Brown Eye Rested Smilingly On Her For A Moment.

 

The Carriage Rolled Off Through The Town,  And Away Down The Long Avenue

Which Led To The Large Family Mansion Of Sandsgaard.

 

The Town Gossipped Itself Nearly Crazy,  But Without Any Satisfactory

Result. The House Of Garman Took Good Care Of Its Secrets.

 

So Much Was,  However,  Clear: That Richard Garman Had Dissipated The

Whole Of His Large Fortune,  Or Else He Would Never Have Consented To

Come Home And Eat The Bread Of Charity In His Brother'S House.

 

On The Other Hand,  The Relation Between The Brothers Was,  At Least As

Far As Appearances Went,  A Most Cordial One. The Consul Gave A Grand

Dinner,  At Which He Drank His Brother'S Health,  Adding At The Same Time

The Hope That He Might Find Himself Happy In His Old Home.

 

There Is Nothing So Irritating As A Half-Fulfilled Scandal,  And When

Richard Garman A Short Time Afterwards Calmly Received The Post Of

Lighthouse-Keeper At Bratvold,  And Lived There Year After Year Without A

Sign Of Doing Anything Worthy Of Remark,  Each One In The Little Town

Felt Himself Personally Affronted,  And It Was A Source Of Wonder To All

How Little The Garmans Seemed To Realize What They Owed To Society.

 

As Far As That Went,  Richard Himself Was Not Perfectly Clear How It Had

All Come About; There Was Something About Christian Frederick He Could

Not Understand. Whenever He Met His Brother,  Or Even Got A Letter From

Him,  His Whole Nature Seemed To Change; Things He Would Otherwise Never

Have Thought Of Attempting Appeared All At Once Quite Easy,  And He Did

Feats Which Afterwards Caused Him The Greatest Astonishment. When,  In a

State Of Doubt And Uncertainty,  He Wrote Home For The Last Time,  To Beg

His Brother To Take Charge Of Little Madeleine,  His Only Thought Was To

Make An End Of His Wasted Life,  The Sooner The Better,  Directly His

Daughter Was Placed In Safety. But Just Then He Happened To Get A

Remittance Enclosed In an Extraordinary Letter,  In Which Occurred

Several Puzzling Business Terms. There Was Something About

"Liquidation," And Closing Up An Account Which Required His Presence,

And In The Middle Of It All There Were Certain Expressions Which Seemed

To Have Stumbled Accidentally Into The Commercial Style. For Instance,

In One Place There Was "Brother Of My Boyhood;" And Further On,  "With

Sincere Wishes For Brotherly Companionship;" And Finally,  He Read,  In

The Middle Of A Long Involved Sentence,  "Dear Richard,  Don'T Lose

Heart." This Stirred Richard Garman Into Action: He Made An Effort,  And

Set Off Home. When He Saw His Brother Come On Board The Steamer The

Tears Came To His Eyes,  And He Was On The Point Of Opening His Arms To

Embrace Him. The Consul,  However,  Held Out His Hand,  And Said Quietly,

"Welcome,  Richard! Where Are Your Things?"

 

Since Then Nothing Had Been Said About The Letter; Once Only Had Richard

Garman Ventured To Allude To It,  When The Consul Seemed To Imagine That

He Wished To Settle Up The Accounts That Were Therein Mentioned. Nothing

Could Have Been Further From The _Attache'S_ Thoughts,  And He Felt That

Chapter 1 Pg 4

The Bare Idea Was Almost An Injury. "Christian Frederick Is A Wonderful

Man," Thought Richard; "And What A Man Of Business He Is!"

 

One Day Consul Garman Said To His Brother,  "Shall We Drive Out To

Bratvold,  And Have A Look At The New Lighthouse?"

 

Richard Was Only Too Glad To Go. From His Earliest Days He Had Loved The

Lonely Coast,  With Its Long Stretches Of Dark Heather And Sand,  And The

Vast Open Sea; The Lighthouse Also Interested Him Greatly.

 

When The Brothers Got Into The Carriage Again To Drive Back To The Town,

The _Attache_ Said,  "Do You Know,  Christian Frederick,  I Can'T Imagine A

Position More Suitable To Such A Wreck As Myself Than That Of

Lighthouse-Keeper Out Here."

 

"There Is No Reason You Should Not Have It," Answered His Brother.

 

"Nonsense! How Could It Be Managed?" Answered Richard,  As He Knocked The

Ashes Off His Cigar.

 

"Now Listen,  Richard," Replied The Consul,  Quickly. "If

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