“There must always be a doubt in these cases where the proof of identification seems to be in the clothing only, and not in the person,” said the doctor.
“That is certainly so. Clothing may have changed hands, as in this instance,” added the rector.
“I want your decided opinion, if you can give it to me, on this subject. It is no exaggeration to say that if it can be shown that the remains identified before the coroner’s jury as those of my wife, were in reality not hers, but of another person, I should be lifted from death and despair to life and hope. For look you, my friends, in all the long and dreary days and in all the long and sleepless nights, I say to myself, that whoever struck the fatal blow, I, and I only, am the original cause of Lilith’s death,” said Hereward.
“You are so morbid on that subject that I despair of ever bringing you to reason,” sighed the rector.
“At least until I have brought him to health! The body and mind are so nearly connected that when one is weakened or diseased, the other is apt to be so too,” added the doctor.
“You are both mistaken. My remorse and despair have nothing to do with health of body or mind. They are both normal and natural. Listen to me. If I, in the madness of the moment, had not insulted, outraged, and driven my young wife from my side, she would never have gone forth that bitter winter night to meet the cruel death at the hands of some midnight marauder—according to the verdict of the coroner’s jury.”
“But you did not send her to the creek,” said the doctor.
“No! but I might as well have done so! Oh! I knew how it was—or might have been—for I will still hope that it was not so. She knowing that she was about to leave the Cliffs for an indefinite time, thought of the poor old woman who might suffer in her absence, and determined that she would pay her a last visit and leave with her provision—in money, which could be easily carried—to last her for a long time. In her feeling of mortification at having been cast off by her husband, she chose to go alone, so as not to expose her distress to any one—not even to a faithful servant. So, before setting out on her long journey, she started to visit old Adah, at the creek cabin, and met her fate—through me.”
“If she did meet her fate! But, Hereward, I am inclined to believe the old woman’s story,” said the doctor.
“And so do I,” added the rector.