A COWARD'S REMORSE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2323, 8 September 1898, Page 60

A COWARD'S REMORSE.

Everybody knows that wo were married and came here for our honeymoon. The month I had with my wife before the dread- ' ful day came when she died would be a i [ happy spot indeed in my life were it not i | overshadowed in my mind by the tragedy i j that was to come. I have little to say in self-justification, but if it is any consolation j to her father for her loss, I can say that I truly believe that during that month she was as happy as I was. God knows I loved her with a love that was -none the less • strong that it failed in the hour of trial. ■ i Ethel was fond of beating, and on calm days we had often taken canoes out on the ! pool that the tide leaves behind it, and • sometimes we Jiad ventured on the estuary. '• One day I had a headache, and said I would ' stay at home. Ethel wanted to .stay with me, but I urged her to go out and get the advantage of a lovely day. So in the afternoon &he said she would go on the water. She was expert with a canoe, and coiild swim fairly well, and I was not afraid for lier to go alone. Bidding her to be careful, I let her go, and said I would perhaps meet her later on. In an hour or two my headache abated somewhat, and I went down to the beach. I could see no sign of Ethel on the great pool which the tide leaves, so I concluded that '■ she must have gone up the estuary. I ' walked to the railway bridge. I hoped •' that she had landed somewhere up the ' stream, and would leave the canoe and walk ! back. I suppose she must have started ' against the tide and got some way up before , it turned, thinking she would have tin easy paddle back with the stream, for when I ' had been on the bridge about 10 minutes ' 1 saw her come round a projecting promon- \ tory. I cursed myself then for not having ' brought a boat up, for 1 could see that .-"he was in difficulties. i The tide was rushing out as it only can I rush at the mouth of a mountain stream, j and the rising wind blowing up through the j narrow neck between the mountains ! was raising short, choppy seas which ( splashed into the canoe. "The little vessel ' was in the broadest and deepest channel ! which runs down near the left-hand &icle < f ' the estuary, and I could see that she was he- i ing carried along by the force of the cur- \ rent, and that Ethel was doing her best to i keep her straight with the paddle. If she ! shot the bridge safely she would be safe ; | and I looked down at the water swirling j into a great eddy between the piers, and 1 wondered if she would get through with- j out overturning. j By this time she was about a hundred j yards off, and I shouted to her encouragingly f to keep cool, and that all would be well. 1 ' wish I had been dumb for ever sooner than ' have uttered those words, for whether she started at hearing my voice, or stopped paddling and got broadside to the water, I could not see, but all in a moment, as ib ' seemed to me, the canoe overturned and ! she was in the water. She tried to swim a few strokes, but her dress encumbered her, and the current carried her straight for the bridge towards me. Still she managed to , keep above water, and as she neared me \ I could hear her cry of " Jack ! Jack ! save ' me !" j I suppose no one will believe me when I 1 say that I meant to jump. If the canoe had j been close to me when it overturned, I be- ' lieve— l am sure I should have jumped, but the moments that elapsed between the accident and that despairing cry, which ought to have brought courage to the heart of even such a caitiff as I, were long enough to ' allow my fatal habit of cowardice to destroy me. " The water is cold and very deep," ■' it said to me ; "it is no good ; you will I only drown with her ; you will not save ' her. And see how cold and deep the water ' is, and how it rushes through the bridge !" j I hesitated at these accursed voices, and my chance was gone. With another cry j she was turned right over by the force j of the stream, and, gazing up at me with a i look that seemed to ask me why I did not | come, she was whirled with a thud, that j ■will sound in my ears for ever, against the ! edge of one of the piers, and then under the bridge and out towards the sea. I stood there helplessly looking at the water as much a murderer as if I had thrown I my poor wife in to drown. ... I looked J hastily rour.d ; to my relief no one was on ; the bridge, and there was nofc a soul m ! sight. The tollkeeper was inside his lodge ' at tea as I passed the gate and he did not here me go by. I walked off ; my resolu- ' tion was "made in an in&lant. I would go ,' straight to the harbour, and pretend that I ; had seen the accident from the high road . that runs along the side of the e&tuary half- • way up the hill. ... j That same night as I sat alone in the sitting room where ' we had spent fo many happy evenings I realised what I had > done, and my bitterest foe could not wish me a worse punishment. From that night Ethel's face has haunted me every hour of my day, and I see it as she looked at that j supreme moment 'when she was dashed against the bridge ; but it is only when I go down to the water that I hear her voice calling me. That is why I believe that the body was not washed out to sea, but lies in a channel somewhere near the bridge. " Jack," she cries in that soft voice of hers, " why don't you come to me? I want you." And then I say that ; I am coming, but when I look clown into ihe ' water lam afraid. Sometimes I keep away J from it for weeks, but it always draws me j back again at last, and I hear the voice, " Why don't you come to me? I want you." Some day, perhaps, God will give me courage, and my long time of punishment will be over. I pray to him that it may be soon, and that, if there is any life beyond the grave, I shall find my darling there, and gain forgiveness.— Extract from "The Lawyer's Failing," by H. J. Essex, in Chapman's Magazine.

" Soilonee in the coort !" the bobby cried. And I really thought I should have died With the coughing here and the sniffing there, Till the judge, enraged, said: " I declare I will this row no longer endure ; Just send for Woods' s Great Peppermint QlKai' 4