. I knew, by instinct, that she was crying bitterly; then I
was struck by the manner in which she looked round; it was evident to me
that she wished to be quite alone. At times the waves playing round the
wooden pillars made some unusual sound; she turned quickly, as though
she suspected some one was near her. Once a gentleman strolled leisurely
down the pier, stood for a few minutes watching the sea in silence, then
went away; while he was there she stood still and motionless as a
statue; then she looked round with a stealthy gaze--a gaze so unlike the
free, grand grace of her movements that I was struck by it. She could
not see me because I was in the deep shadow, but I could see every
gesture of hers. I saw her raise her face to the darkling skies, and I
felt that some despairing prayer was on her lip, and the reason why I
could see her so plainly was this, that she stood just where the rays of
the lamps fell brightly.

It was a dramatic scene: the dark, heaving sea, with the fitful gleam of
the moonlight; the silent pier, with the one huge light; the tall, dark
figure standing there so motionless. Why did she look round with that
hurried stealthy glance, as though so desirous of being alone? Presently
she seemed to realize that she stood where the light fell brightest, and
she turned away. She walked to the side of the pier farthest from me,
where she stood opposite to the bright lights of the western pier. She
did not remain there long, but crossed again, and this time she chose
that part of the pier where I was sitting.

Far back in the deep shade in the corner she did not see me; she did not
suspect that any one was near. I saw her give a hasty look down the
pier, but her glance never fell on the corner where I sat. She went to
the railings--one or two of them were broken and had not been repaired;
in a more frequented place it might, perhaps, have been dangerous. She
did not seem to notice it. She stood for some minutes in silence; then I
heard again bitter weeping, passionate sobs, long-drawn sighs. I heard a
smothered cry of "Oh, Heaven; oh, Heaven have pity!" and then a sickly
gleam of light came from the sky, and by its light I saw that she took
the bundle from under her arm. I could not see what it was or what it
held, but she bent her head over it, she kissed it, sobbed over it with
passionate sobs, then raised it above the railings and let it fall
slowly into the water.

There was a slight splash; no ot