Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1885-10-30

Was Will a feeling of hope I saw that
lay upon the sand. He was lying almost
~! ~. = heap, and must have sustained fear
lua injuries; but dead he was not, for I
saw MN, after making q few piteous
struggles succeed in turning his face
po "'Gsrald,' I cried, are you much hurt,
For Gods sake try and answer me-
"A faint voice-the ghost of his usual
voise7Irepded: Il have brolken one arm
down to me?'
i can not,' I said, without going along
ene coast for a mile or more. I am going
up till I return,
AND then, leaving my gun to mark the
Spot where he fell, I.turned and, swiftly
as l could, commenced running across
country. l knew the path we'll. The near
est mouse was at least two miles away,
20 sne poor fellow must lie in agony for
some m before l could bring MIN the
indispensable aid. With the remembrance
OF mat helpless form lying on the sand
before me, my thou ghts were only how to
rescue him with as little loss Of time as
possible, aud for the first five minutes I
a az the top of my speed. Sheer ex-
oAoA SOu1polloO m6 W pause ana
draw breath, and as l mod Grated my pace
the awful thought for the first time came
to me. The tide! the tide! I remembered
it was rising-that it was about three.
quarters f1ood-that Gordon was lying
very near to the edge of the water, and I
Knew ~ could not bear him aid before
the sea covered that narrow strip of sand
ne wasa dead man. Aud then the temp
tation began. Let no man say there
is no devil, for I tell you in
that moment the devil was with me.
Hsshrought your form with all its beauty
shining IN your eyes: He shaped the
thought in my mind, 1T is for her. who
might love You, you are saving him. Is
she not worth the sin?' And as the
tempter promised me-, I said to myself:
One h~ali.hour's delay; a rest by the way;
q fancied inability to proceed further; a
m~istake-so easy to make-in the road,
and you were free once more, and might
yet be mine The prics was crime-loss
Of honor, Of self-respect, and all peace of
mind; but you might be mine, and what
price was too heavy to pay for that?'
And as thought after thought, zach like a
against a gate, knowing as I did so
that every moment I fingered risked
q mans life. The sudden temptation,
the commencement of the crime, the
consequences to follow, the shame I
felt. even then. bewildered me, and for
a time l was beside myself. I seemed
the air seemed full of horrible forms
and sounds. How long I waited mo-
%tionless I can not tell-would that l
knew!-it might have been moments,
minutes or hours. At last it seemed as
though I woke, and as I turned and ran
heard the words, Too late!' too late ?
shrieked after me in fendish FL ,e. AS 1
ran l believe l even ceased to think, and
fell utterly exhaused at the door of the
farmhouse to which l mechanically di.
reeted my steps; In broken sentences I
down wish the ropes-I offered large re-
wards should they reach the coast in time
to avert what I now shuddered to think
ml%ght:happen. They started with allfpos.
sible dispatch, and as soon as my strength
returned to mel followed. Gertrude, how
spot just as the meu from the farm low
cred one Of their party over the edge of
the cliff, and, as sick and dizzy I leant
over, I saw beneath me the cruel waves
dashing a dark form against the ~crueller
rocks, and as one of the men turned to
me- and said, Poor chap! we had been
a quarter Of an hour before, we might
have saved him. I knew that IN the
eye of God l was as much a murderer as
the ruffian who drives mis- knife through
the heart OF his victim. Little wonder
was it, as they bore his nerveless
form to the top Of the cliff; as I saw that
pale face stained here and there with
blood, the blue eyes yet open, and, as ]
almost fancied, seeking my own, that
fell as one dead upon the grass, and was
born away unconscious as the man I had
toully slain.
"What more remains to be said? You
know the rest-how the illness that fol.
/ lox,oI VIC, q tt,.i hut oA IN tina shool, T h,J
undergone and the exertions I had used
to save my friend. How people praised
my presence Of mind in at once starting
for assistance. How you-even you
wrote kind words to me-words that cut
my heart Ike knives. Yet no one knew
face of the dead, as I saw it ere l fell
senseless on the cliff; that ever in my
dreams / was running, it seemed to be,
from an image of o n that fearful
things were striving to stop me. No one
knew how often I went to the spot where
could, the rising waters to ascertain If
it were possible for a man to have COM
passed the distance and brought aid
in time to save him. Alas, I only
learned I was a murderer in act as we'll as
thought! I gained the prize that tempted
me-but at aohat a cost! When, after
some years, you gave me your hand, I
knew your heart could never be mine, but
lay in Gerald's grave; I knew that the
thing which at last induced you to accede
to my repeated requestiwas more the love
you fancied I bore him than the love
you felt for me. And so, as the price of a
lies remorse, l won a woman whose love,
in life, could never be mine, and who,
after death must hate my memory.
sab, Gerald Gorden, slain by the waves
at the bidding of your friend, just IS the
supreme joy OF life was yours; your lot,
after all, was happier than mine"
As she read the last words, Gertrude
Blase dropped the manuscript, and bury
ing her face ia her hands, cried: 20.
why did he tell me? why did he tell me?
This is the worst of all to bear. Tnank
God, l have no children in whose faces
may see murderer written" Then
with bitter grief and hatred in her
heart, she sat on and on through the weary
night. Aud aver before her was the i'm.
age of Gerald Gordon, with the hum
cry waters creeping round him, his poor,
manned limbs battling in vain struggles
to keep his life until the delayed help
arrived. And her face was stern and
cold as she pictured it. If her husbands
hopes of heaven rested on her forgive.
ness she felt she could not bring her lip:
to frame the words.
She could scarcely credit The tale she