Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1866-04-21

The boat stopped at westminster she
never moved, aud l dared not leave her
She clung to the bulwarks, and gazed
more earnestly than ever at the water.
!" You had better sit down." I said,
wishing to get her away from the side.
"No, the time will soon come now."
"Do you get out at Lambeth 20
Before"
"There is no pier between this and
Lambeth"
She smiled. a strange, sweet smile
Her mind was running on that delusion
of hers, that fantastic story of her sui
eide nine years ago. We were nearing
the place where she said it had taken
place I must watch her closely. When
we got to Lambeth | would appeal to
the crew, to the passengers, would have
her removed from the boat, and restored
to the keeping from which she must
have escaped.
The boat started; slowly it forged
ahead under Westminster Bridge. and
as the sunlight was shut, and the dark,
cold arch stretched over US, thought
of her smile 1t was like the grave,
and l shuddered. l saw her shudder
too
I tried to speak to her, but could
not; I went close to her, I almost held
her. The boat shot out again into the
sunlight: this was the time she had
spoken of. I tried to grasp her dress,
but nay hand refused to move; I could
not speak l could not stir. With one
bound she was on the bulwarks, and
had plunged headlong into the river
1 did not pause for one moment with
out thought I yielded to the irrresist-
ible impulse which seemed to force me
to follow her. l dashed into the water
after her-I sank-the water hissed and
bubbled in my ears. l stretched out
my hands vaguely, for I could not swim;
they touched something; it was her
dress. drew her toward me- l felt
her arms twine round ME, and press me
tight and tighter as we sank Then for
the first time the thought occurred to
me of risk to myself. 1 should be drown
ed. struggled to escape, but she held
me firmly; l tried to push her from
me, but she pressed me close and closer
l was being sufocated, her arms stran-
gled me, and her weight dragged me
down. We were still sinking; my
strength was failing me, and l struggled
more feebly. A rush of roaring, hiss
ing water, sense of utter darkness and
| remember no more.
i = x 4
was in bed when I awoke again to
consciousness 1 felt weak and faint;
1 lay still, with hardly the power of
thought. Gradually the whole of what
had taken place on that afternoon came
back to me, clearly and distinctly as l
remember it now.
f" Is she saved 2" I murmured, more
as an echo to my own thoughts than as
a question; for l did not know that
there was any one in the room.
"Hush !" said kind voice by my
bedside, and grave, middle-aged man
took my hand. He felt my pulse: Hush!
he said, "the fever has left you, you
must not speak" !"
ais she saved?" I asked again, "I
must know"
He shook his head, but did not an
swer; he turned to woman who was
sitting in the window "The fever is
gone,' he whispered, but he is wan
dering still you must take great care
Of him."
81 am not wandering" I said, i'm
patiently; "I only ask if the woman 1
jumped in after was saved p
"She was moi" said the doctor; now
keep quiet, every thing depends on that.
But as he looked to the nurse I saw
him shrug his shoulders 1 was not
satisfied. As I got gradually stronger
| tried to question the nurse as to the
fate of the unfortunate woman, but l
could get no information from her. She
seemed almost frightened when I men
toned the subject; SO | gave up asking
her any questions, being determined
that when | could get about | would
make inquiries for myself.
Many times while lay on my sofa
still weak from the effects of my illness,
did 1 recall the incidents of that after
noon. Many times did the face of that
poor girl return, haunting me with its
exquisite beauty. l have tried to think
how it was, that, knowing my own help
lessness in the water, without one mo-
ment's hesitation l plunged in after her.
The impulse on which | acted was sud-
den and irresistible an impulse the
effect of cause unknown to me, and |
which in all probability I shall never
know.
l was now very well, and was sitting
up turning lazily over some old volumes
of the Illustrated London Neps. 1
was tired of the pictures, and was glanc-
ing through some short paragraphs of
gossip, when the following lines caught
my eye:
death ON THE RIVERA few days ago |
two bodies, one of lady and the other of |
SensAenans we're PicAeu up py sone iiSnteI-
men off the Firth marshes. 1t appears that |
the deceased got on board Chelsea steam
boat on the lst of this month. Soon after
the boat passed under Westminster Bridge
the lady jumped overheard, and the gentle I
man Immediately followed her. Neither of
them ever rose again. Advertisements have
been inserted in several papers, as the de- I
ceased were evidently in a respectable posi-
ton in life, but the bodies have hot yet been
claimed. The lady was dressed altogether
in black, and was Of singular beauty.
= Io,l al ~ The