There was a sound, but it was like nothing human--it was neither sigh
nor moan, but more pitiful than either; the poppies lay still on the
grass, and a great hush seemed to have fallen over the river.

"Into the sea," I repeated, "and the man, as it fell, saw a shawl of
black and gray."

She tried to spring up, and I knew that her impulse was to rush to the
river. I held her arms, and she remained motionless; the very air around
us seemed to beat with passionate pulse of pain.

"There was a faint splash in the water," I went on; "it was all over in
less than a second, and then the swift waves rolled on as before. The
woman stood motionless. When she turned to leave the spot the moon shone
full on her face--ghastly, desperate and beautiful--he saw it as
plainly as I see the river here. He heard her as plainly as I hear the
river here. She cried aloud as she went away, 'Oh, my God, if I dare--if
I dare!' Can you tell what happened? Listen how wonderful are the ways
of God, who hates murder and punishes it. She flung the burden into the
sea, feeling sure it would sink; but it caught--the black and gray shawl
caught--on some hooks that had been driven into the outer woodwork of
the pier; it caught and hung there, the shawl moving to and fro with
every breath of wind and every wave."

Without a word or a cry she fell with her face in the grass. Oh, Heaven,
be pitiful to all who are stricken and guilty! I went on quickly:

"A boatman found it, and the bundle contained a little drowned child--a
fair waxen babe, beautiful even though it had lain in the salt, bitter