Christmas Penny Readings: Original Sketches for the Season

But how refreshing and cooling it seemed as I bathed my fevered brow and moistened the handkerchief hastily bound round my bleeding arm; while, though stopped from continuing my pursuit, I knew that it was impossible for the fugitives to proceed, and I waited anxiously for the cessation of the storm.

Once there came a lull, but only for a few moments, while the brilliant rose-coloured and violet lightning played around, when down came the rain again, more violently than ever, as though it would never cease. The ravine had been turned into a little river, once again towards which, winding in and out amidst the huge blocks of rock, hundreds of watercourses were hurrying. Now it was black darkness, and nothing visible, and the next moment again flaming swords appeared to cut through the rain, and light up the ravine with every rainbow tint; and still came that deafening mighty rushing sound of the waters, as though I were standing upon the spray-wet rock beneath Niagara.

I was standing where a weather-stained mass jutted out from the rocky side and protected me from the heavy fall, but from every jagged and time-worn point around the water streamed down as it leaped and plunged from the mountain side into the ravine. At some early epoch in the world’s history, the earth must have divided in some awful internal throe, and then imperfectly closing, have left this long rift forming a watercourse in the rainy season, but in the dry-time merely a stony bed, with here and there a pool. Save where the rains had washed away, and masses of rock had fallen, the sides showed how once they had been torn asunder, and displayed prominence and indentation at every bend.

All at once the rain ceased, as if in obedience to an omnipotent command, the black clouds passed over, and the sun shone down into the ravine. But what a sight met my gaze. Already up to my knees, and teeming along with awful velocity, was a mighty clay-stoned river, eddying, foaming, and sweeping round the rock-strewn bed, and bearing with it leaf, branch, and trunk; bushes and masses of grass torn from the gully sides; while large pieces of rock were being moved from their places, or tottered where they stood.

I stood waiting for the waters to subside, for where I stood it was impossible to scale the rocks, even for an active man, while in my crippled state, I could not have climbed a foot. But they did not seem to subside at first; and I fancied that they perceptibly rose, till I called to mind that I had altered my position a little. But now there was no doubt about it; the waters were rising fast, and I trembled as I thought of being swept away, and my helplessness to cope with the rushing stream; while, again, it was horrid to be prisoned there, while the poor girl I sought to rescue was perhaps being borne farther and farther away. Then came a grim smile as I thought of the vengeance which had overtaken four of the miscreants, and then I shuddered as I thought of the cost at which it had been purchased – poor Abel now perhaps swept from his stony resting-place and borne far away towards the sea.

But now it was time to think of self and life, for the water was rising fast, and as I stood hesitating and watching for a place of safety, and to which I could wade, heard above the present rushing of the waters, came a hideous hollow-sounding roar, and gazing with affrighted eyes, I saw as it were a tall wave rushing down the ravine, making the water in its path foam and roar as, like some large cylinder, it rolled over and over, sweeping all before it, and the next moment I was caught, torn from my feeble hold on the rock, and hurried along, buffeting the strangling waters.

Those were horrible moments: now I was beneath, now above, now dashed half-stunned and senseless against some mass of rock, now thrust down and held beneath the rushing stream by the branches of some torn-up tree. It was impossible to swim, while even in the stillest water such an effort would have been hard to a wounded man. A few despairing thoughts crowded through my brain as I feebly buffeted the waves, and struggled for a few more draughts of the fresh air of heaven, and then after grasping and catching at twigs, branches, and masses of floating turf, I was dashed against a mass of rock, to which I tried to cling. There was a cleft in it wherein I thrust my fingers, and then tried to hold on by my teeth on the soft crumbling stone. At first the little projection broke off, filling my mouth with pieces of grit, but despairingly I again hung on by my teeth, and this time hope seemed to dawn again within my breast, for I thought if I could hold on for awhile, the waters must subside. But as the thought animated me, there came a fiercer rush than ever, I felt the mass of rock totter, roll over, and I gave a wild despairing cry, as I was again swept away faster and faster, while the horrid dread of death gave place to a strange lulling sensation as I closed my eyes.

Once more I was aroused by a violent blow, and as my arm was raised mechanically to grasp, I passed it over the trunk of a large floating tree, and holding on for dear life, I was hurried down with the foaming waters.

The hard battle for breath past, fear came again, and I looked despairingly from left to right for rescue from my perilous position, but everywhere ruin and desolation, while the din of the rushing waters was frightful. Everywhere the sides of the ravine seemed to be crumbling down, and masses of earth and rock were undermined and fell with a terrible splash into the stream, growing more furious every moment, while, wherever the gorge narrowed, the turbulence was awful.

Dashed against masses of drift wood, and bruised against the summits of the projecting rocks, I was faint and despairing, when all at once the roots of the tree I was in caught against a massive stone, the trunk swung round, and I found myself brought up by the side of the gorge, where the branches of a tree hung down; and rousing my last strength I clutched them, and drew myself up, till I could rest my knees upon the floating tree; then I nearly over-balanced myself as the trunk rolled about, but getting hold of a stouter branch I again drew myself up, so that I stood, and then as the trunk again broke loose and floated away, I got one foot upon the rocky side, and hung suspended over the stream, whose waves seemed to leap angrily, to beat me down.

To an uninjured man a slight effort would have been sufficient to place him in safety, but a strange fear seemed to creep over me, as I felt that in a few moments I must fall from my hold, and be swept away. But once more the desire for life came again to renew my strength, and slowly and painfully I got hold for my other foot, and then crawled to a rift, where a little stream of water was rushing down from the table-land above, when by dint of again battling with the blinding water, falling from weakness again and again, I managed to reach the top, crawl beyond the reach of the stream, and then fell exhausted, where I could gaze down upon the raging torrent.

The pain from my wounded arm roused me at last from a half-drowsy, fainting state, and then I eagerly drank from the spirit-flask in my pocket. I then loosened the handkerchief round my wound, and remembering that my task was yet unperformed, I examined my powder, which was fortunately dry, and after carefully wiping, reloaded my revolver, which was safe in my belt, but my gun was lost when I was swept away. The sun was now setting, and I tried to make my plans for the future, but a sense of confusion and dizziness seemed to rob me of all power of action, and at last I threaded my way amongst the trees slowly and painfully, keeping close to the great gully, and listening to the hurrying waters; now shuddering as I thought of the past – now stopping short to think of the possibility of those I was I was in search of being yet in between the walls of the rift, when the storm came, and then I trembled for their fate. But all seemed troubled and confused as I stumbled along, trying to recover my lost ground, for I must have been swept back a mile, though what I could have done to save those I sought from their peril would have been but little. The last I remember then is kneeling down to try and make out some object borne along by the stream, surging along in the darkness below me, for all seemed wild and blank, till I was again hastening with Abel through the wood, guided by the burning farmstead, and watching the black demon-like figures flitting about. Then I could feel the dog tug tug at the string as we tracked the bushrangers, and I listened to his low whimpering cry. Then again came the fight in the gully, and I saw again the agonies of the man I shot, as he griped and clutched with talon-like fingers at the earth; and then came the horrible crashing, rushing voice of the mighty stream, as it raged along, sweeping all before it in its headlong passage. Now, again I was stifling and strangling, grasping and clutching at everything I touched, and then I seemed to be borne under, and all was darkness.

The sun was high in the heavens when I awoke from my stupor-like sleep, with my head throbbing, and gazed at the brilliant blue sky above me, trying to recall the past. I was in pain, and could not raise my arm; there was a delicious cool breeze fanning my cheek, while bright, fresh, and pure, all around seemed grateful to the senses; but as I lay there was a strange trembling vibration of the ground beneath me, and I wondered as with it came a tremendous roar – a rushing noise.

All at once thought came again with a flash, and I shuddered as I recalled the past, and thought of having slept so many hours. Then I sat up and saw that I had fallen within a few feet of the precipice where the stream rushed along still fiercely and impetuously, but with the swift fierceness of a deep and mighty current.

I might well tremble as I gazed upon that huge current – a torrent which had risen fifty feet in a few hours, sweeping all before it, and I trembled again as I thought of those I sought. I rose to my feet and tottered for a few paces, but was soon fain to sit down beneath a tree, and there in the great wild I stayed, faint and weary, hour after hour, listless and but little troubled, as I sat within sound of the rushing waters.

It was towards night when all at once I roused up and stared around me, for it seemed that I heard voices. I listened and all was silent; but again the sound came, again heard above the roaring of the torrent, and then I tried to give the well-known call of the Australian woods, when to my inexpressible joy it was answered, and five minutes after I was surrounded by a party, half squatters, half blacks, who had been upon the track for the murderers of Mr Anderson.

I learned afterwards that the blacks had followed our trail till the storm was coming, when they immediately hurried back, and the whole party had a very narrow escape, but though they had struck the gully again and again, they had seen no traces of those they sought, and but for my hearing them, they would have passed me on their return.

They turned back once more upon learning my history; and, guided by the blacks, kept as close to the brink of the rift as was possible; while, after refreshment and rest, I struggled on with them, hoping against hope that the two poor girls might yet be alive. I knew that if they had escaped they could not be far off; and so the sequel proved.

The search was about concluded; and, sick at heart, I listened to the talked-of return.

“Poor things! they must have been swept away,” said one of the squatters, when he started, and ran towards the gully edge, for a long, wild cry for help arose apparently from beneath our feet.

One of the blacks then let himself over the edge, and climbed down, to return directly after with the announcement that Miss Anderson was below.

A rope of handkerchiefs and straps was soon improvised, with which the black again descended; and in a few minutes the poor, fainting girl was drawn up from the shelf of rock upon which she had been for hours resting; and, after regaining her strength somewhat, she related how that, when the storm set in, the men had hurriedly dismounted; and, securing their horses at the bottom, climbed with the two poor girls to the shelf where she was found – a place well sheltered by the overhanging rock; and, of course, at the same time thoroughly hidden from those who passed above.

Then came a time of horror, for they could climb no higher; and slowly they had seen the water swell and rise till it came nearer and nearer; and at last, giddy with fright, the poor servant had slipped from her hold into the fierce stream. The men hesitated for a moment, but directly after let themselves down, and swam boldly after her. Soon after there came a shout, and then one or two strange, gurgling cries, which chilled the hearer’s blood, and then all was silent save the rushing of the river, till voices were heard overhead when her cry for help brought salvation.

Times have altered since then, and I often look with pride at the wife who shares my home in the wilderness; and now, years after, in spite of the changes that have taken place, and the safety of person and property in the colony, Mary never hears an unusual noise by night without tremblingly grasping my arm, and listening eagerly, while she recalls the horrors of the deep gully.

Chapter Fourteen

Gnashing of Teeth

Hush! Be silent! Let this be to you as if whispered under the seal of confession, for it is of the secret, secret. Never let it be known to a soul, or body, let it never even be said aloud, lest some vagrant wind should bear it away, and it become known to the vulgar herd.

Hush, listen! Keep it secret. I am a man who has known sorrow and deep affliction. My heart has been broken – broken? no, hammered to pieces – powdered, till there cannot be a fragment left that has not dissolved away amidst my tears. And how was this, say you? Why, because I loved her. I knew it not at first, but it came upon me imperceptibly, like the pale dawn upon the daisy mead, growing brighter each moment until the sun riseth, and all is one glowing scene of beauty. It was all sunshine then, and earth was brighter day by day in my kindling eye. A new life seemed bursting forth within me. I found charms, where all before was dreary. I slept – but to dream of my beloved image, and awoke but to muse upon her perfections. She was a doctor’s little daughter, but the taint of medicine was never upon her, and to love her was a new-born hope. Yes, I dared to hope – presumptuous wretch that I was; but by that which casts the shadow of Wilkie Collins, I will name “No Name.” Yes, I hoped that my ardent passion was returned – that is to say that not mine, but another ardent passion was given in exchange. Had not she smiled upon me? and had not her hand rested in mine for an instant, squeezed it, and then gently glided away, while I was bursting with the desire to press my lips upon it? I dared not be too sanguine, but yet hope whispered me that I was loved – that she would be all my own – mine – far off perhaps in the future might the realisation of my wishes be, but I could wait. I was still young, eighteen in a month, and what were a few years, when so peerless a queen awaited me?

Time slipped rapidly by, though I counted the minutes ere I could cull and lay the choicest of flowerets before her – flowers bought with money at Covent Garden Market – flowers received with smiles, while some bud would be culled and placed amidst the ebon ringlets that wantoned around her alabastrine neck. The light of gratitude would beam from those tender dark eyes when some book, poem, or musical trifle that I had sought was presented with a stammered excuse for daring to bring them beneath her queen-like notice. Her coral lips would part, and display the pearly treasures beneath, when I would shrink back timid and fearful lest I should be guilty of a theft and steal a treasure from the coral bow.

I loved her – madly loved her. I paced the square by night to gaze upon her lamp-lit casement – content with gazing upon the blind alone, but enraptured if the shadow of her fairy form was cast upon that blind; misery-stricken if, warned off by the policeman, I had to leave the square, smarting under the knowledge that I was watched. But still I kept long vigils by the house lest evil should befall her, and I not be there to ward it off. But nothing happened: the house did not catch fire; burglars never assailed it; no ruffians ever attempted abduction; and the two mysterious figures who entered by the front door at two o’clock on the Tuesday night, were her father and brother; while the dark man who went down the area was only the policeman. But those were agonies until I knew the truth, and was sweetly rallied for my anxiety. But though no prodigies of valour were ever performed by me, they were there ready in my bosom – a bosom which burned to shed its last drop in her defence.

Months flew by, and then in the balcony one night I told my love of my anxieties, my troubles, my cares, and then, in the intoxication of the moment I saw not that we stood plainly out against the illuminated window, for I only knew that her blushing face was hidden upon my shoulder as I clasped her to my breast and reiterated my vows of love. And she? Ah! she would be mine – mine for ever; and she whispered those words as a ribald street boy sung out “Lul-liety.”

Oh, life of blisses! Oh, hours of too-brief happiness! Why passed away – why gone – gone for ever? The moments were too bright to endure, and a cloud crossed the sun of my young and ardent love, raining tears – tears of agony upon my earthly paradise. Doubt, suspicion, hope, fear, all swept across my trusting spirit ere I would give entrance to that fearful brain-enslaving jealousy – maddening jealousy. Oh, but it was a hard battle, for I could not believe her false, even though the evidence was clear as the noon-day sun. The current of my life was changed, and from an open trusting soul I became a spy. I dogged her footsteps, coward that I was, for I dared not upbraid her. But the villain who had robbed me of my peace, for him was reserved the corked-up bottle of my wrath, ready for pouring upon his devoted head. I felt that I could rend him limb from limb, and tear out his false, deceitful heart. I had three times seen him leave the house, and knew him at once as a rival. I hated him with ten thousand-fold fury, but still I must be just. Of noble mien, of polished exterior he was fitted by nature to gain the heart of a weak woman; and even as I passed him I fancied that I could trace a smile of triumph beneath his black moustache. For yes, he passed me almost upon the steps of the house, and then entering a well-appointed brougham, he was driven off.

For days I watched for this demon in black, with his dark eyes, lustrous hair and whiskers, and glistening teeth, for he was, in my sight, a dark tempter, but he did not return. But I saw something which set my brain almost on fire. She left the house morning after morning, and my heart whispered that it was to keep assignations with the treacherous villain.

But I did not upbraid her; I was cheerful and sarcastic in her presence, while she grew strained and strange. And I, knowing that my manner had produced the change, laughed a loud, long, harsh laugh, and left the house with a dramatic scowl upon my brow, and at last, after days of watching, I followed her with the sensation of a hand clutching and compressing my heart. My temples throbbed, my brain swam, and as I hurried along I stumbled against the passers-by.

At last I staggered so heavily against a man that an altercation ensued, a crowd collected, and when I escaped, the cab that I had been tracking was gone.

Oh, the tortures I suffered! oh, the agonies of my mind! but impotent as I felt, what could I do, but wait hours until I saw her return, and then with closely-drawn veil hurry into the house, where I dared not trust myself to follow, for I felt, oh! so bad – so dreadfully bad, I didn’t know what to do.

I returned to my abode where I offended my father, upset my mamma, and quarrelled viciously with my poor saintly sisters. And oh! what a night I passed! In the morning when gazing in the mirror, I started with affright from the wretch who met my gaze.

“Take some medicine, Alfy,” exclaimed mamma, when she saw that I turned with disgust from my breakfast.

Kind, well-meant words, but what medicine would ease my sorely-distressed mind. But no, I could not eat; and though hours too soon, I could contain myself no longer, but hurried off, engaged a cab, driven by a tiger, who afterwards preyed fearfully upon my pocket, and then had the vehicle posted, where, unseen, I could watch the door of her habitation. The hours passed slowly away as I sat gnawing my fingers, and comparing the present tempest of the heart with the past bliss.

“Go, ungrateful!” I exclaimed aloud.

“Where, sir?” said the cabman; coming to the door and touching his hat.

“No where;” I exclaimed, “stay here.”

“Certainly sir, only I thought you shouted.”

At length the wretch slept upon his box, whilst I, wretch that I was, envied the poor fellow, and longed for peace and rest from the burning, maddening, torturing pain I suffered. Then I started, for I saw her page come from the house, and in a short space of time return with a cab.

She, false girl, was evidently waiting in the hall – yes, ready now for an assignation, though I had been kept an hour at a time when about to take her to horticultural fête or opera – and directly after and still more closely veiled, she tripped lightly over the pavement and entered the vehicle.

My driver was already well tutored, but he was asleep.

“Follow that cab!” I cried, hurriedly, as I poked at the somnolent wretch with my cane.

“Aw right;” he exclaimed; till I savagely thrust at his ear, when he roused up with a start, jerked the reins, and began to follow the wrong cab.

“No! no!” I shrieked, excitedly; “the other street. That! that! The one turning the corner.”

“Then why didn’t yer say so at first;” growled the ruffian, blaming me for his own neglect; when on jangled the wretched vehicle closely behind that containing the false one, whilst I pressed and stifled down the feelings battling for escape. Then I endeavoured to arrest the desire to stay her in the street, and prevent the meeting my instinct told me was to take place; for I was determined to confront them, and then cast her off in his vile presence, ere in the far-off Antipodean South I fled, to seek forgetfulness or a grave.

The cabs stopped, and then I saw her enter the door of a noble-looking mansion, where she was evidently expected. What could I do? In my impotence I sat for a while madly raging in my cab, for, gifted with a strong imagination, I could, in fancy, see all that was taking place: soft glances, clasped hands, the arm of the foreign-count-looking fiend around her waist, her head resting upon his shoulder, and then eyes meeting eyes, and her face buried in that hideous black beard. Oh! it was too much; and I sprang out of my cab, ran up the steps, tore at the bell, and then, as if by magic, the door was opened, when, guided by instinct, I pushed by the servant, and hurried up the drawing-room stairs. Unheeding the shout of the liveried menial, I paused for a moment undetermined before three doors, when, hearing low muttered sounds, I opened the one right before me, and entered.

Will time ever erase the agony of that moment from my memory? Shall I ever again know that state of happy rest – those peaceful hours, ere I gazed upon thy false, false face? Oh, Eva! Alas! no. My heart still answers No!

I glided like an avenging serpent into the room, so silently that they heard me not, and then for a moment I was spell-bound with agony, for there was almost what I had pictured. With her bonnet thrown off, her long dark hair hanging over the back of the fauteuil in which she reclined, and her eyes raised towards his, was the false one. While he, the blight and crusher of my life, leant over her, caressing her cheek, and bending nearer and nearer, and nearer still – but I could bear no more: my eyes seemed blinded with fury, and to be starting out of their sockets; my brain burned; and with one wild, hoarse cry of “Fiend,” Nemesis-like I launched myself upon him.

In a moment, with a cry of dread, he wrenched himself round and confronted me with his ashen face, but with a wild “Ha! ha!” I had him by the throat, and we wrestled here and there, tumbling the rich furniture in every direction, till, with almost superhuman strength, I dashed his head through the pier-glass behind him.