The Wildfire Club - The Emma Hardinge Britten Archive

OR THE LAST TENANT. 57
hardened human heart! With a frantic effort to rescue
the sir.king form, Edward Rookwood dashed into the rh'er,
struggling with the desperation of a self-convicted murderer
to save another from the terrible crime which he had
but a moment before so coolly contemplated.
He succeeds in dragging a human form from the fierce
torrent, and with much difficulty places it on the green
bank beside him. A human form! Alas, 'tis but afor", I
Some fearful change has come over the creature, which a
minute ago was a temple of an immortal spirit. Nature,
in her truth and innocence, shrinks from the disorganized
mass, destitute of the only spark which rendered it lovely.
Edward Rookwood gazed in awe and terror on the woman
who had killed her body, and asked where was her spirit
gone. He felt she was dead; every nerve and fibre crept
with a cold shudder in response to the spirit within, which
told him he was looking on one who had rushed headlong
into the vast abyss of eternity, and, shuddering for the suffering
soul which he felt was gone to its tmprepared ac- .
count, he raised the body on his arm with the hopeless
view· of again searching for the extinguished spark of
vitality. A low, wailing cry arrested him. He turned
and gazed on a little ragged, forlorn-looking child, of about
five years old.
" 0, mother, mother!" she cried, .. why don't you speak
to me ? 0, why did you go into the cold river without
me? 0, mother, mother! do speak to little Hannah; she
does 10"'e you so, mother! and this good gentleman will
give us a loaf of bread, alld some pennies to buy gin with,
if you'll only look up and speak to me."
What a history did these few words, and the torn rags
of the miserable little orphan, reveal! He gazed on the
swollen, bloated features of the corpse; youth, beauty, gin,