Devil's Gap [pp. 225-233]

Devil's Gap.
which had now become generally known;
and finally, her physician forbade all
questioning for the present as her frail
life trembled, suspended by a thread.
None approached her bedside but himself, old Dorothy and the pastor, upon
whose name she would frequently call in
tones of entreaty the most heart-rending,
for protection from some frightful, impending danger.
The affliction of the good old man
knew no bounds, as he looked upon the
angry fever-flush upon her wan and
sunken cheeks, and beheld the wonted
gentle light of those sweet eyes quenched
in the fire of delirium; and it needed all
his Christian resignation and pious fervour of soul, to reconcile within his mind,
the tortures of that fair and innocent
creature, to man's imperfect conception
of God's infallible justice. Weeks had
passed. Conjecture as to the cause and
perpetrator of the atrocious crime had
almost wearied itself out; and the temporary gloom, cast upon the little community of B, by the sad event, had
gradually yielded to the cares and avocations of every-day life.
Blanche still hovered between life and
death; while in the circle at the parsonage no change could be observed, save
that amidst the furrows time had made
upon the brow of the kind pastor there
might be traced a deeper line of care;
and that upon the sombre features of
Ernest Moreton a heavier gloom had settled, which might perhaps be but the
result of the profound feeling he betrayed
in his frequent anxious inquiries concerning Blanche's state. For hours would
Ernest sit at his chamber window,
opening upon the garden of the par sonage, his eyes fixed intently on the
ground beneath, and the workings of
his countenance betraying the fearful
emotion of his soul. Strange and mys terious indeed is the infatuation which
attaches to the commission of crime; and
it would seem as if the very instinct of
self-preservation implanted in the mind
of man by an allwise Providence, in a
nature thus perverted, becomes the
surest means and instrument of his de tection and punishment. It is thus we
One evening, not long after the fatal
occurrence we have related, the gardener, at the parsonage of B, seeking
some richer soil wherewith to surround
his drooping pl ants, attacked, spade in
hand, a certain mound of ear th w hich
had long accumulated, unremarked, in
the angle formed by th e rear of the house
with the garden wall. Sho vel full after
shovel full was thrown out; until, about
to pause from his labor, he thrust his
spade for the last time into the soil. As
he did so, his ear caught the harsh sound
of the iron, as it grated against some hard
object in the ground, which was presently brought to light. A low muttered
ejaculation of surprise, escaped him, as,
stooping, he raised it to examine it in his
hand; partially enveloped in a shred of
coarse grey cloth,-and, whose sparkle
had attracted his attention on the ground,
was a small golden locket, containing some
tresses of hair, differing in shade, together with the buck's horn handle of a stout
clasp knife, whose shattered blade still
open protruded from the haft. Arrived
but recently in the village, this discovery,
though it certainly surprised, excited in
him no suspicion of the truth, as, carefully bestowing the articles about his per son, he now prepared, the setting sun
warning him he might quit his labors, to
return to his home just beyond the vil lage. Early on the morrow he resolved
to communicate the circumstance to his
employer, now absent, on a distant visit
to a sick parishioner. As he turned to
leave the spot, he saw not the vision of a
pallid face with features distorted by hor ror, which soon vanished front the win dow overhead.
232
LMARCH
find the criminal so often self-accused b'y
an act of folly the meanest intellect
might have taught him to avoid.
xi.
Knock! Knock! There was no reply;
all was still and silent as the grave in
that chamber. Break down the door,