Cedric, smitten almost to the death, bade
The driver go with haste. He found her and
She, smiling, whispered low: “My Cedric, you
Have come to meet me. Is this heaven?” then placed
The baby hand in his and falling back,
She was _indeed in heaven_. Cedric, tearless,
For a moment stood as one struck dumb; then
Took the baby in his arms. She too young
To understand, or lisp her mother’s name
Or his, as though instinctively, she threw
Her rosy arms about his neck and kissed
Him. Then confiding, laid her golden curls
Upon his breast. The nurses, thinking him
A base deserter, hoping he at least
Would own the child, and seeing him caress
It--placed tenderly its costly wrappings
’Round, and quickly packed its ample clothing,
Gave it him. He kissed the marble brow and
Turning to the one who had the right to
Speak for all, he inquired about the rites
And ceremonies of her faith, “Were they
Performed?” “Yes,” the matron said, “the good priest
Has been often by her side, left her just
Before you came; the one who married her.”
He paced the hall and pondered, mystified.
What he had heard and seen had set his brain
Awhirl. So she was married! Then to whom?
Her husband might at any moment come
And claim his child--claim Lola’s child--he quick
Resolved to take the babe and give his life
To her--to care for her, for Lola’s sake;
For she was Lola’s child, if not his own.
They must not know that he was not the one
Who married her. He must not see the priest.
He, in his frenzy, cast aside all thought
Of right or wrong--decided he would
Steal--yea, lie or even die before that
One who had deserted her should have her
Child. He gave them gold, and speaking calmly,
(Falsely, too, as he supposed) said: “Tell them
Her husband ordered that her last resting
Place shall be a mausoleum grand, and
To him you gave the child--the one to whom
It rightfully belongs; say that he loved
Her to the last, and would that he had died;
That she had mourned for him--not he for her.”
Then, with a farewell kiss, he took the child,
Believing he was stealing it away.
The baby clung to him and was content.
But for the child his life had ended there;
Then there had been no tie to bind, no one
To love. The past almost a blank, and in
The future no alluring hope, he fain
Had snap’d the slender thread of life, to be
With Lola evermore. Or, had he been
One of the weaker kind, complaining at
His fate, he had perchance by slower
Process, ended all in low debauchery.