AT MIDNIGHT.

Otago Witness, Issue 2685, 30 August 1905, Page 82

AT MIDNIGHT.

Br Babbie the Egyptian.

(For the Witness.) ■Slowly, peacefully, the river flowed on, itid in the water was reflected the moon. The witchery of the moonlight was lost upon the man and the woman, who held each other in a despairing embrace. Tho woman sobbed, and the sound weakened the man's strong resolution, and caused his heart tp ache more cruelly than it had done. , "Dearie," he said tenderly, drawing hel even closer, "there is no other way." "I know," in a pitiful tone, and for an instant her own great woe was lost to her Bight as she contemplated the hopelessness of her companion. "It must be if we are Jiot to be parted for weary years —you in a dreary prison cell, and I in misery unendurable in a luxurious home."

"In a little while we will do it" — softly ; "let us wait until the clock strikes midnight, and then we will die together." ■ For answer sho kissed his face passionately; her lips lingeringly and tenderly touched brow,- mouth, and cheeks. How she loved him! He had sinned, but he •had sinned for her sake and because of his (great love for her. Surely she was willing )to bear^ in part his punishment, even although^ that punishment meant death. iShe caught Her breath sharply as a realisation of what it meant came to her. Life mad been so sweet a possession during their four weeks of married life, and now they . .were going to cast it away from them. 'Was there no other way ? There was not ; 't>etter to trust to the mercy of God than to trust to the tenderness of human-kind. /The worid shows no mercy to the man iirho has succumbed to temptation, and •Bertie Glen had become a thief. He was accountant for a large- firm, and six weeks just before his marriage, he mad, unknown to his employees, relieved Sfchem of £50. ' He had meant to restore the flanoney almost immediately, but the man jto whom he had lent £30 had refused to jpay up, and it had been impossible to -"faise the necessary amount. On the morrow r the head of the firm — a hard man — was coming to go- through the accountant's books, and ruin would inevitably fpllow. The . knowledge of this had re- i .jsulted in Glen's full confession to his wife, Jsind she, womanlike, had shed- tears over jthe sinner and comforted him by assurjance of her unchanging love. Her Womanly heart had helped her to hide the "extent, of .the shock which the revelation' her, and after the first moment! ehe did not shrink from him. How could j Ehe, when in their little sitting room were ' arranged the very articles which the bor- j rowed money had provided. Love and consideration for her had' prompted the dishonest act. Glen had taken her from a luxurious home, and he had tried to make 'the difference less apparent. His reasoning ihad been at fault, but then, she argued, 3iis intentions had been good : he had 'thought that the friend to whom his money •was lent, would long since have returned *he loan, and it would not have been so'difficult to make up the necessary £20 — indeed, at that very moment there was Eying in the young wife's desk a £10 note, |>art of lijs salary — the greater part of it for that month, as their expenses had been Very few. '

"Poor little woman," said the man's, fausky* voice; "will you not go back and leave* me to my fate?" "No; how can you ask?" reproachfully; ''without you life would be valueless." Her answer was brave enough, but. the piteous look in her eyes fretted him. "I dare not face disgrace," he muttered, as a still, email voice appealed to his better self. "Think of the trial, and afterwards the long, endless days. Better death than that."

And the woman's heart agreed with his spoken words. Better far that the river should swallow them up than that the law should separate them. Had it been possible for her to share the imprisonment ■with him she would have urged endurance •of the punishment which the law would mete out, but to contemplate years of •loneliness for herself and years of heartbreaking solitariness for her husband was impossible. Better cteath together. A confused prayer rose from the sorely-tried iheart. Surely, surely the good God would forgive them both.

Slowly and yet too quickly the faithful moment's moved on. If to the woman they w-ere fraught with pain, how much greater M^as the man's suffering His sin, not hers, lad brought them to this pass, and he was experiencing hell's own bhtckne^s. He cursed the mad moment of temptation, and Stole a glance at the fair, sorrowful face of his wife. Was. there no other way? Must they carry out the desperate deed which they had stolen forth into the night to do?

If only his employer were a kindly man he would have been content to go down on 3iis knees and sue for pardon, but everyone knew Robert Burnett's hardness of heart. Confession to such a man would be useless. From the distant town came the sound €>f chimes. The two looked at each other. "Together !" whispered the woman, and they moved nearer the river-bank. Here they were arrested by a strange sight. Coming slowly but sure'iv down the river was a small boat,' and in it sot a little girl. On came the small craft, and the watchers iheld their breath, for it was filling rapidly ■with water. Just in front of them the fcoat caught on the branch ofji tree which hunt* over from the opposite bank and dipped into the water. The -child was thrown out. Glen took off his coat qtuckly, and was aoine- into the water, but his ■wife held him bick. "Not without me," she pleaded feariully. H-e kissed her hurri-wUv. "Xo, I w i'l Have the little mite, be-c! then " He splashed into the water, ;>nd swam k> the spot ; but the current had been too

quick for him, and a fair head appeared some little distance farther down. Putting forth all his strength he succeeded in reaching the child, and a moment later ho was back on the bank.

Floss tcok the bairn from him, and wrapped it in his dry coat. Again tlie two looked into each other's eyes. "We must take it to the nearest house," said the woman calmly ; "it would die otherwise."

The man assented, and picked up the small atom of humanity whose midnight voyage had so disarranged their plans. He strode quietly towards the nearest dwellingplace. It was in darkness, but in a few minutes loud knocking had roused the sleeping inmates, and kind, busy hands were endeavouring to restore life to the little body. Their efforts were presently rewarded, and the blue eyes opened to consciousness. In the meantime the little stranger's identity bad been discovered — at least her place of abode had been ; she was staying at a house a little farther along. Having ascertained this fact, Glen, who had been robsd in dry clothes far too big for him, took the child in his arms and set off far the house, which had been pointed out. The little girl* was in a state of amazement, as, indeed, were her rescuers. They could not understand a mite of five years bsiug alone in a leaky boat at midnight, especially as she was clothed in nothing save a long, white nightgown, which the water had drenched and draggled. From the windows of the house to which Mr and Mrs Glen were hastening gleamed lights, and as the two approached the front door opened and an anxious-looking man came out hurriedly. He uttered a sharp exclamation as he saw the little party approaching — so did Glen ; but the reasons which actuated the two men were very different, — and came hurriedly forward.

"Is she dead?' he asked, in a fearful voice, and was almost afraid to look any closer at the bundle. A voice from among the blankets answered gladly. "Daddy, I am dry now." And the man snatched the burden from Glen, and ran indoois with it. "Alice," he called, joyously, "the truant is found." A~t- the call a woman hastened to his side, and almost devoured her child with lasses. Neither father nor mother remembered ths existence of their baby's rescuers until Mrs Blakie, with whom Mr and Mrs Burnett were staying, called the two, who hesitated on the footpath. Qaickly the story was told, and as quickly explanation was given. The little girl was a sleep walker, and that day she and her little cousins had been playing by the river and in the old boat, which was moored to the bank. A troubled night's rest after her day's excitement resulted in the child reacting her day's proceedings in her sleep, and while in the boat by some -means the moorings had become unfastened, and the rickety little cockleshell had floated off, bearing the child to certain destruction, from which only Glen's prompt action had saved her. In the gaslight Robert Burnett recognised the man who had saved his little girl. "You will not find me ungrateful," he said huskily as he gripped his employee's hand. "Thank God that you happened to pass at that moment." Floss shuddered. "Happened to pass." Ah, he did not knovr. Once out in the night again the man looked afc his wife. "Let us go home," he said, gently, "and forgive my madness, Floss, dear. Thank God for His interference."

And Floss echoed the words, for to her also the Creator of all life had given a more adequate conception of the greatness of his gift to mankind. In, the morning there came from the postman's hands a bulky, apologetic letter, which contained £30. Armed with this and Floss's other £10, Bertie made a clean breast of eveiything to Burnett, and was forgiven. Into the hard man's eyes came tears of shame as the accountant told of his mad intentions.

"You preferred death to my sentence?" he asked.

'•I preferred death to a public trial," was ths somewhat evasive answer, and as it was given both men realised their own remissness more than they had hitherto done, _ and in his innermost heart Burnett registered a vow to cultivate the grace of mercy, while Glen, once more an honest man, knew that henceforth his life would be a scrupulously honest one. Within her little home Floss's fair face smiled happily. "God is good," she whispered to herself, and was conscious of a, great gratitude. Had not the Almighty One stooped to earth in order to raise from despair two of his finite creatures?