He sat there through the weary hours of the night, a haggard, desperate fear settling upon him. He dare not approach his wife; the sight of him increased her frenzy, and she prayed that she might never see his face again.
Misery had made my mother strong and she could help me. Calm, cool, and deliberate action was necessary now.
Arthur must leave us before morning. No one had known of his coming. The child's sudden death must be in some way accounted for, in what way I knew not. My mother whispered God would help us.
Arthur slunk away in his guilt and misery. He took no leave of us, but silently crept out in the darkness. There was darkness on every side, it was bearing down upon him with the weight of an avenging fury. I watched him, bowed and desolate, stealing away from us, away from all that was dear to him, from all that had loved him, and could not, even now, cast him off. I lingered until the last sound of his footsteps died away. I knew then as I know now, that we should never see him again. The rain fell upon him as he passed out. It fell upon me as I stood there, and I thought it was falling far away where I had seen a lonely grave.
I washed our martyred babe and dressed it for the burial. There was a mark upon its little neck that the solemn wrappings of the grave must cover. It might be bared before the judgment-seat to plead for an erring father.
My mother died soon after of a broken heart. She never recovered the shock of that terrible night. The curse that settled upon her poor, misguided son made him none the less her child; and she would try, with all the tenderness of her wounded spirit, to think of him as he was, innocent, true, and noble, when first he left her. When we learned that he had died on foreign shores, and was buried on a lonely island, she thanked God that he was no longer a homeless wanderer.
My sister Grace is with me still, loving and cherishing my young children, leading them and me to better life by the chastened beauty of her own Christian character.