THE MIDNIGHT WALK.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As friends’ ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friends remembered not.—_Shakspeare._
Where, meantime, was Adelaide? We left her, self-expelled from her home,
standing without the door, alone, at midnight, with her delicate feet
deep in the snow-drifts, and the snow-flakes falling fast around her
fragile form. A few moments she stood thus—solitary, desolate,
despairing, in the midst of freezing cold, whirling storm and utter
darkness, with but one purpose in her mind—to flee; with one wish in her
heart—to die; one prayer on her lip—to be received of God.
At first, in the solid blackness of darkness, and the whirling chaos of
snow, she could discern nothing—she struck out blindly for the side-gate
that opened, from the lawn, out upon the bridle-path leading along Bush
Creek to the mill. After floundering at random through the snow-drifts,
she at length reached the fence and felt her way along its line, until
she found the gate. She opened it and passed out upon the bridle-path.
Her eyes, now more accustomed to the deep darkness, could discern the
track by its border of bushes, that looked only a denser line of dotted
shadows.
We might suppose that in her desolate circumstances there could be found
no favorable feature; but in fact there were two,—in the first place,
the very violence of this midnight-storm kept all night-passengers from
the road, and thus saved the fair, defenceless wanderer from all danger
of insult. In the second place, the wind and snow coming from the
north-west, were behind her; but for this, she never could have lived to
reach her destination. Thus driven before the tempest, with her blood
half congealed and her limbs trembling under her, she reached Bush Creek
Mill. Holding by the side-railing she reached the bridge. A bright
fire-light shone from the window to the left of the front-door. To this
window, as has been said, Adelaide went and looked in. Oh, in comparison
to the bitter storm without, how comfortable looked that homely room!
with its home-made carpet on the rough floor; its corner-cupboard, with
glittering crockery-ware and domestic stores; the flag-bottomed
arm-chairs, the calico-covered sofa, the warm rug, the clean hearth, and
the bright, broad fire, with the two girls sitting, whispering in its
glowing light and genial warmth.
Within was life; without, death.
She dared not trust herself to gaze one moment on that scene. She lifted
her benumbed fingers and tapped upon the pane. She heard Kate scream and
saw Lionne start up. She immediately raised the sash, slipped under it
her little note and turned away.
The fear of being followed and called back lent fresh vigor to her
failing limbs, and as fast as they could carry her, she fled from the
window. She had passed the gate and reached the bridge, where she paused
to recover breath, when she saw the house-door torn open, a stream of
red fire-light gush forth, and Kate run out into the storm, calling
loudly upon her name. This gave new impetus to her flight. She fled
across the bridge, regained the road, and turning inland, hurried onward
as fast as deep snow-drifts, whirling snow-flakes, and her own benumbed
and exhausted condition, would permit.
* * * * *
Onward, onward, still onward through the midnight snow-storm, toiled the
wanderer.
Darker grew the dark night; deeper the deep snow-drifts; keener the keen
blast!
* * * * *
Onward, still onward through the black tempest, pressed the wanderer.
It was near morning, and she was miles away from home, when, at length,
her burthened heart stopped its pulsations, her laboring lungs failed,
her oppressed brain reeled, her frozen limbs bent beneath her weight,
her form tottered and she fell—murmuring—
“If this be death, oh, Saviour, receive a poor heart for which the earth
has no room at all!” Breathing this prayer her senses fled, and the
whirling snow soon covered her form from sight.