"The woman stood there for some short time in silence; then she became restless, and looked all around to see if anyone were near.
"Then she walked to the side of the pier. She did not see the dark form in the corner; she raised something in her arms and dropped it into the sea."
There was a sound, but it was like nothing human—it was neither sigh nor moan, but more pitiful than either; the poppies lay still on the grass, and a great hush seemed to have fallen over the river.
"Into the sea," I repeated, "and the man, as it fell, saw a shawl of black and gray."
She tried to spring up, and I knew that her impulse was to rush to the river. I held her arms, and she remained motionless; the very air around us seemed to beat with passionate pulse of pain.
"There was a faint splash in the water," I went on; "it was all over in less than a second, and then the swift waves rolled on as before. The woman stood motionless. When she turned to leave the spot the moon shone full on her face—ghastly, desperate and beautiful—he saw it as plainly as I see the river here. He heard her as plainly as I hear the river here. She cried aloud as she went away, 'Oh, my God, if I dare—if I dare!' Can you tell what happened? Listen how wonderful are the ways of God, who hates murder and punishes it. She flung the burden into the sea, feeling sure it would sink; but it caught—the black and gray shawl caught—on some hooks that had been driven into the outer woodwork of the pier; it caught and hung there, the shawl moving to and fro with every breath of wind and every wave."
Without a word or a cry she fell with her face in the grass. Oh, Heaven, be pitiful to all who are stricken and guilty! I went on quickly:
"A boatman found it, and the bundle contained a little drowned child—a fair waxen babe, beautiful even though it had lain in the salt, bitter waters of the green sea all night. Now comes the horror, Mrs. Fleming. When the man, who saw the scene went after some years to visit the friend whom he loved so dearly, he recognized in that friend's wife the woman who threw the child into the sea!"
Again came the sound that was like nothing human.
"What was that man to do?" I asked. "He could not be silent; the friend who loved and trusted him must have been most basely deceived—he could not hide a murder; yet the woman was so lovely, so lovable; she was seemingly so good, so charitable, so devoted to her husband, that he was puzzled, tortured; at last he resolved upon telling her. I have told you."