The coach thundered down Fourteenth street south, and onward until it reached the foot of the Long Bridge, where it slackened speed, as “the law directs.”
Ah, Heaven! what pleasing, painful memories were awakened in the poor child’s mind and heart by the sight of this old bridge.
Upon just such a day and hour as this she had crossed it for the first time. Then as now, the gorgeous crimson rays of the afternoon sun blazed down upon the river, and the wintry wooded shores were reflected in deep shadows along the reddened waters. Then as now, the scene was transfigured by the hour into supernal beauty and glory.
But then she was a newly made and blessed bride, seated by her husband’s side and going to share his home and bless his life.
Scarcely eleven months had passed, and now, now she was recrossing the same river, gazing on the same scene, at the same hour,—a deserted wife though an expectant mother—a nearly heart-broken woman because an accusing spirit, going to confront her husband, and confound his criminal plans. And at this hour on the morrow, where should she be? At Old Lyon Hall, bringing exposure and shame upon her guilty but still dear Alick—bringing mortification and sorrow to his expectant young bride—spreading consternation and gloom among the gay wedding guests. Could she bear to do this? But perhaps at this hour to-morrow she might be dead and “past her pain,” for who could say whether she would have strength to live through the terrors of the scene she was so resolved to brave?
Her mournful reverie was interrupted by mammy. The slow motion of the coach was favorable to conversation, and mammy loved to let her tongue run.
“You see that sunset, don’t you, ma’am?” asked the old woman, pointing to where the sun was slowly sinking behind some long black clouds that lay along the summits of the western hills.
“Yes, I see them.”
“That means bad weather, ma’am. All the good Indy summer goes down with that sun, ma’am. You may take my ’sperience for that. We gwine to have rain and wind, and may be snow and sleet. For my part I pray to the Lord as we may reach our journey’s end before it comes too severe. When does you expect to get there, ma’am?”
“Some time to-morrow afternoon or evening; I do not exactly know the hour.”