Hans of Iceland, Volume 1 by Victor Hugo

She with young unwakened senses, Within her cabin on the Alpine field Her simple homely life commences, Her little world therein concealed. And I, God's hate flung o'er me, Had not enough, to thrust The stubborn rocks before me And strike them into dust! She and her peace I yet must undermine: Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine! GOETHE: _Faust, Bayard Taylor's Translation_.

In 1675, twenty-four years previous to the date of this story, sooth to say, the whole village of Thoctree rejoiced and made merry over the marriage of sweet Lucy Pelryhn and that tall, handsome, upright youth, Carroll Stadt. They had long been lovers, and every one felt a warm interest in the happy pair upon the day which was to change so many restless hopes and eager longings into assured and quiet bliss. Born in the same village, reared in the same fields, Carroll had often in their childhood slept in Lucy's lap when tired of play; Lucy had often, as a young girl, leaned on Carroll's arm as she returned from work. Lucy was the loveliest and most modest maiden in the land; Carroll the bravest and noblest lad in the village. They loved each other, and they could no more remember the day when their love began than they could recall the day when they were born.