On life's wide sea, when tempests gathering dark
Pour the fierce billow on the shatter'd bark,
The surge may break, the warring winds may rave,
'Tis God controls the vengeance of the wave;
And those who trust in his Almighty arm
No storm shall vex, nor hurricane alarm;
He is their stay when earthly hope is lost,
The light and anchor of the tempest-tost!--S.M.
At an early hour next morning every avenue and street leading to the
place of execution was thronged with human beings, all anxious to behold
an erring fellow-creature suffer the punishment due to the enormous
crime of which he had been found guilty. The rush of the gathering
multitude was like the roaring of a troubled sea, when the waters foam
and chafe, and find no rest for their tumultuous heavings. Intense
curiosity was depicted on every countenance, and each man strained his
neck eagerly forward to catch a glance of the monster who had murdered
his own father.
And there was one among that mass of living heads the most anxious, the
most eager of all. This was Godfrey Hurdlestone, who could not believe
his victim sure until he saw him die.
"Why, Squire," whispered a voice near him, "I did not expect to see you
here. Are you not satisfied that he is condemned?"
"No, Bill," responded the murderer. "I must see him die. Then, and not
till then, shall I believe myself secure."
"What has become of Mary?" again whispered his companion in guilt.
Godfrey's hardened face became livid. "She was lying speechless, given
over by the physicians, at Captain Whitmore's, three days ago. Curse
her! I have no doubt that she meant to betray us."
"I wish I had throttled her the night she described the scene of the
murder! But mum; here comes the prisoner. By Jove! how well he looks!
how bravely he bears up against his fate! Does not the sight of that
proud pale face make you feel rather queerish?"
"Away with your scruples; his death makes rich men of us."
The prisoner ascended the platform, supported by Frederic Wildegrave and
the good chaplain. A breathless pause succeeded, and he became the
central point to which all eyes were directed. His hat was off, and the
expression of his face was calm and resigned; the dignity of conscious
innocence was there. He turned his fine dark eyes with a pitying glance
on the upturned faces of the gazing crowd; the hisses and groans with
which they had greeted his first appearance were hushed; a death-like
stillness fell upon that vast assemblage, and many a rugged cheek was
moistened with tears of genuine compassion.
"Hark, he is about to speak! Is it to confess his crime?"
In deep clear tones he addressed the multitude. "Fellow-men, you are
assembled here this day to see me die. You believe me guilty of a
dreadful crime; the most dreadful crime that a human creature can
commit--the murder of a parent. Here, before you all, and in the
presence of Almighty God, I declare my innocence. I neither committed
the murder nor am I acquainted with the perpetrators of the deed. God
will one day prove the truth of my words. To Him I leave the vindication
of my cause; He will clear from my memory this infamous stain.
Farewell!"
"He cannot be guilty!" exclaimed some.
"The hardened wretch!" cried others. "To take God's name in vain, and
die with a lie upon his lips."
The prisoner now resigned himself to the hangman's grasp; but whilst the
fatal noose was adjusting, a cry--a wild, loud, startling cry--broke
upon the crowd, rising high into the air and heard above all other
sounds. Again and again it burst forth, until it seemed to embody itself
into intelligible words; "Stop! stop!" it cried, "stop the execution! He
is innocent! he is innocent!"
The crowd caught up the cry; and "He is innocent! he is innocent!"
passed from man to man. A young female was now seen forcing a passage
through the dense mass. The interest became intense; every one drew
closer to his neighbor, to make way for the bearer of unexpected
tidings, who, arriving within a few yards of the scaffold, again called
out in shrill tones, which found an echo in every benevolent
heart--"Godfrey Hurdlestone and William Mathews are the real murderers.
I heard them form the plot. I saw the deed done!"
"Damnation!--we are betrayed!" whispered Godfrey to his colleague in
crime, as they fled from the scene.
All was now uproar and confusion. The sheriff and his officers at length
succeeded in quieting the excited populace, and removed the prisoner
once more to his cell.
"I trust, my son, that the bitterness of death is past," said the
chaplain, who accompanied him hither. "The God in whom you trusted has
been strong to save."
"And where, where is my preserver?" asked Anthony, rising from his
knees, after returning humble and heartfelt thanks to God for his
preservation.
"She is here," said Mary, kneeling at his feet. "Here to bless and thank
you for all your unremitted kindness to a wretch like me. Oh! I feared
that I should be too late; that all would be over before my feeble limbs
would bring me to the spot. I have been ill, Mr. Anthony, dreadfully
ill; I couldn't speak to tell them that you were innocent; but it lay
upon my heart day by day, and it burnt into my brain like fire. But they
did not comprehend me; they could not understand my ravings. At last I
stole from my bed, when they were all absent, and put on my clothes, and
hurried out into the blessed air. The winds of heaven blew upon me and
my reason returned; and God gave me strength, and brought me here in
time to save your life. Yes, you are saved. Blessed be God's name for
ever. You are saved, and by me!"
The poor girl, overcome by her feelings, burst into a fit of hysterical
weeping, and suffered the chaplain to lead her from the cell and place
her under the protection of the jailor's wife.
CONCLUSION.
Little now remains of my sad tale to be told. Godfrey and his infamous
accomplice Mathews were apprehended, convicted and condemned, and
suffered for their crimes on the very spot which had witnessed the
rescue of Anthony Hurdlestone from a death of unmerited infamy.
The sole survivor of a rich and powerful family, Anthony left the
condemned cell in the county jail to take possession of his paternal
estates. But it was not on a spot haunted by such melancholy
recollections that the last of the Hurdlestones thought fit to dwell.
The Hall was sold, and passed into the hands of strangers; and after
remaining two years abroad, Anthony once more returned to his native
shores, and led to the altar his betrothed bride--the beautiful and
talented Juliet Whitmore.
The young Squire's character had been fully vindicated to the world, and
his wealthy neighbors took every opportunity of courting his
acquaintance; but a change had come over Mr. Hurdlestone, which the
caresses of the great and the smiles of fortune could not remove. He
never forgot the sad lesson he had learned in ---- jail, or the
melancholy fate of his nearest relatives. He had proved the instability
of all earthly pursuits and enjoyments; and he renounced the gay world,
and devoted his time and talents, and the immense riches which heaven
had entrusted to his stewardship, in alleviating the wants and woes of
suffering humanity. In the wise and virtuous Juliet he found a partner
worthy of his love. One in heart and purpose, their unaffected piety and
benevolence rendered them a great blessing to the poor in their
neighborhood, who never spoke of the rich Squire and his wife without
coupling their names with a blessing.
Amongst his peers, Anthony Hurdlestone was regarded as a singular
wayward being, whose eccentricities were to be excused and accounted for
by the strange circumstances in which he had been placed. It was a
matter of surprise to all, that the son of the miser, Mark Hurdlestone,
should know how to use, without abusing, his wealth; that, avoiding the
selfish idolatry of the Gold Worshipper and the folly and extravagance
of the spendthrift, he dedicated to the service of God and his
fellow-creatures the riches that, in his father's case, had illustrated
the truth of the heaven-taught proverb:--
"How hardly shall a rich man enter the kingdom of God!"
THE END.