Love stories, German; Sisters -- Fiction; Suicide victims -- Fiction
Hereupon he bolted the door, picked up the letter from the floor, and
read with trembling, choking voice:
"My dear, my Fatherly Friend,--When you read these lines I shall have
ceased to live. The draughts of morphium which you gave me when I had
forgotten how to sleep after Martha's death were carefully collected
and kept by me; I trust they will be powerful enough to give me peace.
"You who have watched over me like a second father, you shall be the
only one to learn why I have decided to take this terrible step. In
long winter nights, when the storm shook my gable-roof and I could not
sleep, I wrote down everything that has been tormenting me for so long,
and will not let me be at rest till I fall asleep for ever. On my
bookshelf, hidden behind some volumes of Heine, you will find a blue
exercise-book. Take it with you, without letting the others notice. And
when you have read all, go out to my grave and there say a prayer for
my soul.
"See that I am laid to rest at Martha's side.
"I loved her dearly. It is she who is calling me to her.
"You will understand all when you have read my story. Perhaps you know
more of my secret than I suspect. I suppose I must have spoken evil
words during the delirium of my illness, else why should you have sent
away my relations from my bedside?
"Did you shudder at the things that my wretched tongue brought to
light?
"Do you pity me? Do you despise me? No, surely you do not despise me;
or how could you have bestowed so much love upon me? And now read.
Everything is set down there. It was not originally intended for you. I
meant to send it after many years--when we young ones too should have
grown old--to the man to whom my whole being belongs, so that he might
know why I once denied myself to him.
"Things have gone differently. To-day, in a moment of forgetfulness, I
threw myself upon his neck. Too late I comprehended that now escape
from him was no longer possible. But, rather than be his, I will seek
death.
"And I have yet another request in my heart. It is the request of one
about to die--if you can, I know you will fulfil it.
"Keep secret from the world, and especially from the man I love, that I
took my own life. Let him believe that my happiness killed me. I shall
destroy everything that might point to suicide; there will only be
indications that I died of syncope or apoplexy.
"From the depths of my heart I implore you to grant me this one last
favour. I die gladly and have no fear. It is so long since I slept
well, that I have need of rest.
"Olga Bremer."
The old man felt himself in a state of utter helplessness.
He staggered, clenched his fists, beat his brow, and then once more he
fell back in his chair.
"This is madness, utter madness," he groaned, wiping the cold
perspiration from his forehead. "Child, what were you thinking of? What
could cloud your reason like this? My poor, poor, darling child?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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