Chapter 30

“At last I became aware that the wheels of the carriage passed through water. Hope revived with the thought. The hut where Osborne was to stop was to the south of the river we were now crossing: the tide was ebbing, and, despite the wind and storm, we passed the ford in safety; a moment more, and the carriage stopped amid the sands. I took the unfortunate lady in my arms, and carried her into the hut; then, fetching the cushions of the carriage, I bade Osborne take the horses on to a covered shed about half a mile off, which he had prepared for them, and return immediately.

“I re-entered the hut—still Alithea lay motionless on the ground where I had placed her. The lightning showed me her pale face; and another flash permitted me to discover a portion of luggage brought here by Osborne—necessary if we fled. Among other things which, soldier-like, I always carried with me, I saw my canteen; it contained the implements for striking a light, and tapers. By such means I could at last discover that my victim still lived; and sometimes also she groaned and sighed heavily. What, had happened to her I could not tell, nor by what means consciousness might be restored. I chafed her head and hands in spirituous waters; I made her swallow some—in vain. For a moment she somewhat revived, but relapsed again; and the icy cold of her hands and feet seemed to portend instant dissolution. Osborne returned, as I had ordered; he was totally unaware of the state to which my devilish machinations had brought my victim. He found me hanging over her—calling her by every endearing name—chafing her hands in mine—watching in torture for such signs of returning sense as would assure me that I was not about to see her expire before my eyes. He was scared by what he saw; but I silenced him, and made him light a fire, and heat sand, which I placed at her feet; and then, by degrees, with help of large doses of sal-volatile and other drugs, circulation was restored. She opened her eyes and gazed wildly round, and tears gushed from under the lids in large slow drops! My soul blessed God! Every mad desire and guilty scheme had faded before the expectation of her death. All I asked of Heaven was her life, and leave to restore her to her child and her home. Heaven granted, as I thought, my prayer. The livid streaks which had settled round her mouth and eyes disappeared; her features lost the rigidity of convulsions, a slight colour tinged her cheeks; her hands, late chill and stiff, now had warmth and voluntary motions of their own. Once or twice she looked round and tried to speak. ‘Gerard!’ that word, the name of her boy, was murmured; I caught the sound as I bent eagerly over her. ‘He is safe—he is well,’ I whispered. ‘All is well; be comforted, Alithea.’ The poor victim smiled; yes, her own sweet smile dawned upon her face. ‘She too is safe,’ I thought. Once again I felt my heart beat freely and at ease.

“She continued, however, in a state of torpor. There were two rooms in the hut. I prepared a sort of couch for her in the inner one. I placed her on it; I covered her with her cloak. By degrees the sort of insensibility in which she sunk changed to sleep. We left her then, and sat watching in the outer room. I kept my eyes fixed on her, and saw that each hour added to the tranquillity of her repose; I could not hear her breathe; for though the thunder and rain had ceased, the wind howled and the near ocean roared; its billows, driven by the western gale, encroached upon the sands almost to the threshold of the hut.

“A revulsion had taken place within me; I felt that there was something dearer to me than the fulfilment of my schemes, which was her life. She appeared almost miraculously restored, and my softened heart thanked God and blessed her. I believed I could be happy even in eternal absence, now that the guilt of her death was taken from my soul. Well do I remember the kind of rapture that flowed in upon my heart, as at dawn of day I crept noiselessly to her side, and marked the regular heaving of her bosom; and saw her eyelids, heavy and dark with suffering, it is true, yet gently closed over the dear orbs which again and for many a long year would enjoy the light of day. I felt a new man, I felt happy. In a few short hours I should receive her pardon—convey her home—declare my own guilt; and while absolving her, offer myself as the mark of whatever vengeance her husband might choose to take. Me!—oh, what was I? I had no being; it was dissolved into a mere yearning for her life—her contentment. I was about to render myself up as a criminal to a man whose most generous act would be to meet me in the field; but that was nothing; I thought not of it, either with gladness or regret. She lives—she shall be restored to all she loves—she once again will be at peace.

“These were my dreams as I hung over her, and gradually the break of day became more decided; by the increasing light I could perceive that I had not deceived myself, she slept a healthy, profound, healing sleep: I returned to the outer room; Osborne had wrapped himself in his great-coat, and lay stretched on the floor. I roused him, and told him to go for the horses and carriage immediately, so that the first thing that might welcome Alithea’s awakening should be the offer of an immediate return home. He gladly obeyed, and left the hut; but scarcely was he gone than a sort of consciousness came over me, that I would not remain with her alone; so I followed him at some little distance towards the shed where the carriage and horses were.