ting against her, and closing the
eyes which rage had already rendered blind. She left the snow and struck
out upon the ice. That instant a cloud swept over the moon. Her shadow
forsook her then--even her shadow! A step, a hoarse plunge, and a
piercing cry rushed up from that break in the ice, a cry that cut
through the air sharper than an arrow, piercing far and wide through the
cold night! Then the moon came out, and revealed a ghastly face low down
in the blackness, and two hands grasping the ragged edges of the ice,
slipping away--clutching out again, and still again, so fiercely, that
drops of blood fell after them into the dark current beneath. Still the
white face struggled upward through masses of wet hair, and the baffled
hands groped about fiercer, but more aimlessly, till both were forced
away beneath the ice, sending back a shriek so sharp and terrible that
it might have aroused the dead!--no, not the dead, for up in that
stately mansion, frowning among the snows a little way off, a human soul
had just departed--nor paused to look back, though the existence, which
was its own great sin, followed close, till both stood face to face
before the God they had offended!

But, in the stillness of the night, and in the depths of his honest
sleep, Ben Benson heard the cry. He started from his bed, hurriedly
dressed himself, and went out in great alarm, listening, as he went, for
a renewal of that fierce cry; but, though he reached the ice, and bent
over the yawning hole, nothing but the wail of the winds, and the rush
of waters underneath, met his ear. Still, as he peered down into the
darkness, a human face weltered up through the waters. Instantly, Ben
threw himself upon the ice, plunged his arms downward, and rose
staggering to his feet. In the grasp of his strong hands, he drew a
human form half-way upon the ice. He had paused for breath, but horror
gave him double strength; and, gathering the pale form in his arms, he
laid it upon the ice, parting the long, dark hair reverently with his
hands, and leaving the marble face bare in the moonlight.

"Lord a mercy on us!" he exclaimed, stooping over the cold form. "It's
the young governess, dead as a stone! How on arth did she get here? Not
a purpose, I hope to mercy; it wasn't a purpose. Poor critter, if it
hadn't a been that the ice broke just here in the eddy, her poor body
would a been miles down stream 'fore now. Instead of that, she was
sucked under, and has be