Nick Baba's Last Drink and Other Sketches by George Paul Goff
page 45 of 51 (88%)
page 45 of 51 (88%)
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the trouble to heap the sod over a friendless, homeless wretch, as I
now am.' "'Calm yourself, darling; they cannot connect me with it. I will bury it. But few persons know of it, and they dare not tell.' "He went to the cellar. I could hear him working away and talking excitedly to himself. I approached the steps and listened. He had ceased for a moment, I could hear his heavy breathing. I stepped down a few steps; he turned toward me, coat off; his face grimed with perspiration and dirt, he glared upon me. 'Aha, you come too late; I have concealed it, I am not the owner of it; you cannot prove _me_ guilty.' His mind was wandering; he imagined the officers were come to take him. I moved toward him; a pistol shot, a heavy fall, and he had escaped--so far as human penalty was concerned. Here I was, alone, on this accursed island; even the servants had fled in terror, and left me with the dead body of my husband. His blood ran from the wound, and formed in little pools, which the thirsty black earth drank, and left no stain. Now was I strong with frenzy; the method of madness was on me; I seized the tools, which the suicide had left, and commenced to dig what must now be a grave--wider, and deeper, and longer I dug it; then settled the body into it; and covering it up, heaped and rounded it. I did not mind the work; it was excitement and kept me from dying. I went out into the open air--it was not yet light--the peaceful heavens gave no sign of wrath, and the bright twinkling stars looked down upon this scene of crime, and madness, and suicide, as serenely as they had before the island was changed from a domestic paradise to a pandemonium. I hear him calling, as if from the river; it is a stifled cry for assistance. I must go to him. I can save him, and I--" |
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