The Convict: A Tale

by G. P. R. James

The plan he proposed was followed; but long before they reached the stream, the storm, which was advancing as if to meet them, broke full upon their heads. The lightning flashed, and the thunder roared; but they suffered most from the rain, which poured down in torrents, mingled with enormous hailstones. On came the tempest, sweeping over the land, so lately bright and sunny, putting out every gleam of light, and involving all in a dark mist, only marked by the black lines of the descending hail.

The two horsemen urged their horses on at a rapid trot, taking the road past Mead's farm, and along the brow of the hill overhanging the river, to reach the bridge near Mr. Clive's house; and they remarked, as they rode along, that the waters below, usually so limpid and bright, were now turbid and red, whirling in rapid eddies, near the banks, but rushing on in foam and confusion, in the midst of the course.

"Why this is quite a torrent," said Captain M----, as they proceeded. "When we passed this morning it was nothing but a clear trout-stream."

"It is sometimes very furious when there is much rain in the hills," replied Edgar. "I remember it carrying away a mill some way higher up; miller, miller's man, and miller's wife, all went floating down together in their crazy dwelling; and yet, strange to say, no one was drowned."

"See, there is Mr. Clive and his daughter coming down the opposite slope," said the young officer.

"Good heaven! Helen will be drenched in this deluge," exclaimed Edgar; and he was spurring on his horse to a still faster pace, when an event occurred which for an instant seemed to turn him to stone.

Helen and her father reached the bottom of the slope, and had already advanced about two-thirds of the way across the bridge, round the old piers of which the red torrent was beating angrily, when suddenly the part just before them gave way, and fell in a large mass into the river. Clive caught his daughter's arm, and was hurrying back; but the next instant the part beneath their feet cracked, leaned over to the side, fell, and with those whom it had supported the moment before, was plunged into the struggling waters.

For an instant, as I have said, the sight of her he loved so enthusiastically, likely to perish before his sight, seemed to turn Edgar Adelon into stone; but it was only for an instant, and springing from his horse with one bound, he was down the bank, and into the midst of the torrent. He caught sight of Helen's dress as she rose again amidst the waters, and struck out strongly towards her, battling successfully with the fierce rage of the current, till it brought her down to where he was. His first grasp missed her, but his second caught her by the arm, and lifting her head above the stream, he struck back for the shore, holding her far from him, lest, in the terror and agitation of the moment, she should deprive him of the means of saving her; but Helen, with wonderful presence of mind, did not attempt to touch him. The bed of the river, as it has been before described, was narrow; and the current had luckily drifted her towards the side of Clive Grange. Thus, a few strong strokes brought Edgar to the bank, which was there not very steep, and without much difficulty he lifted her out, and had the joy of holding her in his arms alive.

During the whole of the last events Edgar had remarked nothing that was passing near him. He saw Helen, and Helen only. He thought of nothing but Helen; but the moment after she was safe upon the shore, his thoughts turned to her father, and he looked eagerly around. With deep satisfaction, however, he perceived at a little distance Captain M---- helping the old man up the bank; and he discovered afterwards that his friend had plunged in at the same moment as himself, but that finding Helen's father was a good swimmer, and was striking for the shore, he merely kept near him, till he perceived that, when just near the bank, Clive began to sink. Helen was weak and faint, but she found strength, to hurry to her father's arms, as he sat upon the turf, supported by Captain M----; and all her first feelings were joy and satisfaction when she saw that he was still alive. He did not answer her when she spoke, however, but pressed his hand tight upon his side, seeming to breathe with difficulty. The next instant Helen perceived the blood trickling through his fingers, and clasping her hands together, she exclaimed, "Oh, Edgar! he is hurt, he is very much hurt!"

"A little, a little, dear girl!" said Clive, with a great effort. "I shall soon be better; but it might be as well to send up to the Grange for some people to carry me up. I am too weak to walk. Thank God! you are safe, my dear child. It was that heavy beam struck me as we fell."