Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

remarks upon my hasty progress, if tolerably good-tempered, were in no wise complimentary. The fates were certainly against me that evening. I had already evoked indignant, but unheeded remonstrances from several old ladies, had seriously discomposed the dignity and roused the official suspicions of more than one policeman; and had just parried with more energy than courtesy the simultaneous onset of three vociferous Echo boys-when the fatal moment came. A young woman, who was just in advance, made a hesitating movement across the pavement at the instant when I was rushing past her, and the collision I had been dreading became inevitable. A moment more and the girl was prostrate on the ground, while I only escaped bearing her involuntary company by a series of the most desperate and undignified stumbles. When I had recovered my equilibrium, I turned ruefully back. To what purpose does a man strive against fortune? My "more haste" had provedl, in accordance with the old proverb, "worst speed;" and my first and evident duty was to see what mischief I had done! Happily not very much. The girl readily rose with the assistance of my hand, and although somewhat bewildered and half-stunned by the sudden shock, was not really hurt; and as for my annoyance, it vanished perforce when I came to look at her. She seemed so frail, so poor, so patient. Her's was one of those sad stories which half tell themselves in a glance. The clothes so utterly worn out, and yet so scrupulously respectable; the face so sorrowful and yet so uncomplaining; these were eloquent enough, but there was worse behind, and as she put out her hands with a vague helplessness, as if to seek for some support, I saw in an instant that one of the hardest of all earthly lots was hers-she was blind. My impatience had all vanished, and I am afraid all thought of my deputy, fretting and fuming in his involuntary confinement, had gone with it. I stayed but to assure myself that my charge was really uninjured, and then led her quietly and patiently home. Home did I say?—ah, such a home! As time passed on I came to know it better, and gradually became acquainted with all her circumstances; but the first glance was almost sufficient. When I had been assistant to a parish surgeon in a country district I had had experience of many a hut unfit for human habitation, where the rain dripped through the rotten thatch on to the sodden floor, where the miserable relics of furniture were such only as could neither be sold nor pawned, and where the grim wolf of hunger prowled daily at the door; but I had never seen a home like this. In the lowest and most squalid district of the town, in a court where every breath was pestilential, and amid surroundings so loathsome that even her blindness began to seem to me a merciful deprivation, was this poor lily slowly withering away; fatherless, motherless, friendless, clinging with a pathetic devotion to her sole earthly tie-a worthless brother. Of this young man, in future visits, I saw enough, and much more than enough. He was a fair representative of the worst class of Hammerton roughs: drunken, idle, vulgarly licentious, and shamelessly dirty. The father had long since been dead, and had left his widow to maintain a hard and weary struggle

for existence; a struggle the bitterness of which was intensified by the dissolute habits of a son whom she could neither respect, nor cease to love. This son she had commended with her dying breath to the care of his sister; and to her sacred trust the poor blind girl clung with unalterable tenacity of purpose. Heaven knows her guardianship was weak enough, and her influence of little apparent avail; but such as it was, it was at least the last and only tie that linked him to a past respectability: and she would not sever it. Over and over again I tried to shake her resolution, for it was impossible to avoid becoming interested in her noble self-forgetfulness. I pointed out to her that, so far from supporting her as he should have done, her brother spent great part even of the miserable pittance she herself earned by such poor labour as was open to her, on his vices. She admitted it, but would not loose all hope of his reformation. I told her that even her personal safety was in danger from his frequents fits of drunken violence. She simply replied that God would take care of her. I even reminded her, as a last resource, that the companionship which was so fruitful of misery and of danger to her, was barren of all good result to him. She wept bitterly, but never flinched for a moment from her resolution. What could I do? I readily induced some kind-hearted ladies to interest themselves in her; but charity she would not accept, and any interference seemed only to make her brother more brutal. So, but for some slight medical aid which I was now and then able to render her, I had to admit myself powerless, and for a year or more we seldom met. One evening, now nearly two years ago, I was surprised-I may say more surprised than gratified-by a visit from the brother himself. With the sullen boorishness which generally characterises those who know that they have sunk until everything that is respectable shrinks from and detests them, he told me that his sister had met with a severe accident, resulting from her blindness--had stumbled, and in falling had struck her head with great violence against a fender, and had remained insensible for some hours. To have reproached him with his tardiness would have served no purpose; indeed, I never for a moment supposed that he would have sought aid at all but for the remonstrances of the neighbours, and in this supposition it afterwards appeared that I was quite co:rect. I found the poor girl still insensible, and seeing at once that the case was a serious one, I had her removed to the hospital, which was at no great distance. For this I had small thanks; indeed, I could not quite understand the brother's evident reluctance to her being taken away, but I succeeded in carrying my point. As I had feared, I found that the skull had been fractured, and that a piece of the bone having been driven in upon the brain, a surgical operation would be necessary before animation could be restored, or a hope of recovery entertained. That there was very little ground for any real hope I felt sadly assured; but all that surgical skill could do was done, and when I left her, late at night, she was calm, and had been able faintly to express her gratitude. I left her, but not to sleep. Some strange sense of dissatisfaction seemed to weigh upon me, and turning into my private room I

lit my pipe, and for a long time tried in vain to discover what it was for which my thoughts seemed blindly groping. I could think of nothing that had been left undone, and of no error that could have been committed. I had seen the operation performed by the most skilful surgeon in Hammerton; and the merest tyro in the medical art would have seen at once that the course taken was the only available one. Still nothing could clear my mind of the vague feeling that something had been omitted, or that some mystery remained unravelled; and at last, in despair, I went unsatisfied to bed.

While it was yet dark I was roused by a summons from the nurse, who had sent word that the patient seemed sinking, and had expressed a wish to see me. I rose at once, and hurried into the ward where she was lying. I moved noiselessly to her bedside, and as I watched her-calm, motionless, terribly silent-in an instant the mystery which had been bewildering me flashed across my mind. I remembered then, as if by some strange revelation, the exact position of the piece of fractured bone which had been removed a few hours before; and in a moment I saw that, from the direction of the wound, it could not possibly have resulted from an accident. It was the difference of a minute angle, which neither the operator nor myself had noticed at the moment; but my blood ran cold as I remembered it was the difference also between a mere mischance-and murder. I suppose in my agitation I made some movement, for the poor girl turned her sightless eyes toward me, and asked if I were there? The time was precious, and I had little space for reflection. Yielding to an involuntary impulse, I bent over her, and taking her hand, I whispered, "I know too much not to know all, tell me everything."

Never shall I forget the look of speechless, helpless agony which passed over her face. The thought of her brother perishing on her account, even after so terrible a climax to his ill-doing, seemed the last bitter drop in her cup of suffering, and at first I thought the shock had been too much for her. So passionate were her entreaties, when she at length recovered speech, that I think the hardest heart could not have resisted them. I must make a long story short: I promised secrecy, and she told me all. In a fit of half-drunken rage the miscreant had struck down the guardian angel, whose love had been the last hope of his life; the one only pure being upon earth who would not have revolted from his very touch. And she sank back after her tale was ended exhausted, but imploring me to tell him that her last breath was spent in forgiveness and prayer for him. We were alone; the ward was a small one, used only for accident cases, and there was no other occupant. As I sat by the silent bedside, I could watch in the heaving bosom and the panting breath the last faint flickerings of the lamp of life. Suddenly the dying girl started, and looking up with an expression of rapturous joy, with one last effort raised her arms as if in welcome, and cried Mother, I am ready! I am coming!" The arms dropped, the castoff body lay still, the spirit had flown.

Death is no novelty to me. I have seen it in every shape, I have watched its every phase; from the desperate struggle with which the

strong man suddenly smitten meets his doom, to the scarcely perceptible tremor with which the infant slips into eternity. I was familiar with it in all its forms; but never had any death affected me as this did, and never had its supreme, transforming power so impressed me. But now she lay there a frail, afflicted, helpless girl; and I, in the full tide of health and vigour, was the strong man whose words could comfort her, and whose rude grasp might have crushed her. One moment, and I stand watching the cold earthly dawn steal slowly up the wan, grey sky, while already on her enfranchised eyes bursts the full radiance of Heaven. A poor, weak girl! Oh! Lord, how miserably small beside her heroic self-devotion looked all my strength and my ambition then.

I might, perhaps, have waited some time before the brother had presented himself, but I had no desire either to defer or protract our necessary interview, and I sought him out. I very quietly told him all; and although his demeanour was still sullen, I could see that he was both shocked and even touched. He declared, in a hoarse, terrified whisper, that although he had struck his sister in anger, he had never meant to take her life; and he implored me to let him see her once more. Later in the day we stood for a few minutes side by side, beside the worn-out mortality of so pure and heavenly a love. The young man said little-nothing, I think-till he was going; but he looked long and intently at his sister as she lay, motionless as marble, placid as sleep, her features fixed in "the peace which passeth all understanding." Then turning towards me, he drew his grimy hand across his eyes, and said simply "I shall not forget, Sir," and I never saw him again.

And the dénouement? Yes, I told you it came by post. A little while ago I received a letter from an officer in the army, telling me that he had been called, after the noble defence of Rorke's Drift, to speak to one of his men who had been mortally wounded in the struggle. "I found him," he said, "sinking fast, and it was with difficulty that I could catch from his broken utterances your name, and that you were a doctor. He earnestly wished me to send some message to you, but his power of speech was almost gone, and it was not until my return to England that I could discover your address. The message was simply this, Tell him that I did not forget.' He could say no more, and I do not know if this will convey any meaning to you; but if you felt any interest in the poor fellow, you will at least be pleased to hear that no man in the regiment bore a better character; and that his life was nobly sacrificed while removing the sick from our burning hospital to shelter."

ACHESPÈ

RECOLLECTIONS OF NEW ZEALAND.

I.

VERY pleasant is it whilst sitting by one's own fireside during a winter's evening, or reclining under an awning upon the lawn on a hot summer's day, to call to mind scenes long passed into the land of recollectionscenes of bush life, and of survey experience through which it was my lot to pass some eighteen years ago. Now and then some friend will ask, "How did you like the life in New Zealand?" and if the enquirer, as sometimes happens, takes a real interest in the subject, I find myself drawn into descriptions of my own experiences. Beyond having kept a diary during my three years' sojourn in Otago, I have never before committed to paper any of these recollections; but two incidents within the last few weeks have induced me to try my hand at doing so. One was the remark of a fellow-member of the C.L.A., incident upon a conversation on Colonial matters; he said, "Why don't you send a contribution to the 'Mag?' You certainly have plenty of material of an exceptional character." And the other was the recent visit to Birmingham of Judge Bathgate, of Dunedin, who delivered a lecture upon the Colony at the Chamber of Commerce. It so happened that I was a fellow-passenger in the "Star of Tasmania," with (at that time) "Mr." Bathgate, who was going out to establish the bank of Otago, and had with him his wife, ten children, and four servants. His presence rendered the three months' passage a most enjoyable one; he was the life and soul of our ship's company: full of anecdote, including many relating to the brothers Chambers of literary celebrity, whom he had known from boyhood at Peebles, his native town. He also edited our weekly newspaper which came out every Saturday, contributions to which had to be deposited in the "Editor's box," padlocked near the saloon door. His kindly and sound advice, too, given in his own pleasing manner, stood us youngsters in good stead upon our arrival, free and untrammelled, in a new country, and more than likely to come to grief upon finding ourselves suddenly in the midst of a diggings population; for it was just at the time of our arrival that the Dunstan diggings were at their height. I have also lively recollections of the occasions upon which I saw Judge Bathgate in his new home, "The Glen," and of his giving me a letter of introduction to his brother at Peebles, when I called upon him to say good-bye when leaving the Colony for home again.

« ПредишнаНапред »