Nelly was like one in a terrible dream; she heard nothing of anything that passed around her but the rush of the wind and the roar of the waves; she saw nothing but the wild tossing waters, save when she caught a moment's glimpse of Walter. Happy was it for Ned's wretched mother that she was beyond reach of either hearing or seeing!
When Mrs. Goldie recovered from her swoon, she found herself in the nearest house, which happened to be that of the baker. Her wild passionate inquiries received no reply but looks of sorrow and pity; and unable to endure the terrible suspense, the poor woman sprang from the bed on which she had been laid, and in the strength of her despair, notwithstanding every effort to detain her, rushed back to the spot where the sight of an assembled crowd directed her impetuous steps.
Alas! For the sight that awaited her. Viner was kneeling upon the shingle, supporting on his bosom the head of a youth, into whose colourless lips he was pouring some spirits, and Nelly, at his side, with trembling eagerness, was watching the signs of returning animation. Mrs. Goldie gave one wild, searching look, and passed on—the face was not that of her son. A little farther on lay a corpse, in which life had for some time been extinct. Stiff and cold he was stretched in death, the young, the beautiful, the strong—oh! How changed! In vain every method to restore him had been tried—the heart and the pulse had ceased to beat, the sparkling eye was glazed, the laughing lip silent; in the midst of his pleasures, his follies, his sins, Ned Goldie's spirit had been summoned to appear before his Maker!
We will dwell no longer upon a scene so sad—no words can paint the anguish of the desolate mother! We will rather reflect upon the comfort which it was to Walter, when following the poor youth's remains to the grave, to feel that Heaven had enabled him to triumph over his better feelings, and even to hazard his life for the sake of one whom he had once regarded with hate. His efforts to save Ned had been in vain, he had only succeeded in dragging the body to the shore; but he had done all that it was in his power to do; he had treated an enemy as he would have treated a brother; and he no longer felt self-condemned by his own words when he prayed:
"FORGIVE US OUR TRESPASSES AS WE FORGIVE THEM
THAT TRESPASS AGAINST US."
[CHAPTER VII.]
"Lead us not into temptation."
E— was now becoming completely emptied of visitors. Every lodging put up its hopeless label—"To let"—in the reading-room no one thought it worth while to attend; the shore was left to the fishermen, and scarcely a bonnet was seen in the streets!
Walter worked busily and well at his new occupation. He had really a taste for carving, and every article that he made was an improvement upon the last. It was a great pleasure to him to hear Nelly admire his elegant sticks and beautiful boxes, and suggest little alterations and amendments.