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diff --git a/3713-0.txt b/3713-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..30ad34f --- /dev/null +++ b/3713-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1457 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Aaron Trow, by Anthony Trollope + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Aaron Trow + + +Author: Anthony Trollope + + + +Release Date: January 16, 2015 [eBook #3713] +[This file was first posted on July 31, 2001] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AARON TROW*** + + +Transcribed from the 1864 Chapman and Hall “Tales of All Countries” +edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + AARON TROW. + + +I WOULD wish to declare, at the beginning of this story, that I shall +never regard that cluster of islets which we call Bermuda as the +Fortunate Islands of the ancients. Do not let professional geographers +take me up, and say that no one has so accounted them, and that the +ancients have never been supposed to have gotten themselves so far +westwards. What I mean to assert is this—that, had any ancient been +carried thither by enterprise or stress of weather, he would not have +given those islands so good a name. That the Neapolitan sailors of King +Alonzo should have been wrecked here, I consider to be more likely. The +vexed Bermoothes is a good name for them. There is no getting in or out +of them without the greatest difficulty, and a patient, slow navigation, +which is very heart-rending. That Caliban should have lived here I can +imagine; that Ariel would have been sick of the place is certain; and +that Governor Prospero should have been willing to abandon his +governorship, I conceive to have been only natural. When one regards the +present state of the place, one is tempted to doubt whether any of the +governors have been conjurors since his days. + +Bermuda, as all the world knows, is a British colony at which we maintain +a convict establishment. Most of our outlying convict establishments +have been sent back upon our hands from our colonies, but here one is +still maintained. There is also in the islands a strong military +fortress, though not a fortress looking magnificent to the eyes of +civilians, as do Malta and Gibraltar. There are also here some six +thousand white people and some six thousand black people, eating, +drinking, sleeping, and dying. + +The convict establishment is the most notable feature of Bermuda to a +stranger, but it does not seem to attract much attention from the regular +inhabitants of the place. There is no intercourse between the prisoners +and the Bermudians. The convicts are rarely seen by them, and the +convict islands are rarely visited. As to the prisoners themselves, of +course it is not open to them—or should not be open to them—to have +intercourse with any but the prison authorities. + +There have, however, been instances in which convicts have escaped from +their confinement, and made their way out among the islands. Poor +wretches! As a rule, there is but little chance for any that can so +escape. The whole length of the cluster is but twenty miles, and the +breadth is under four. The prisoners are, of course, white men, and the +lower orders of Bermuda, among whom alone could a runagate have any +chance of hiding himself, are all negroes; so that such a one would be +known at once. Their clothes are all marked. Their only chance of a +permanent escape would be in the hold of an American ship; but what +captain of an American or other ship would willingly encumber himself +with an escaped convict? But, nevertheless, men have escaped; and in one +instance, I believe, a convict got away, so that of him no farther +tidings were ever heard. + +For the truth of the following tale I will not by any means vouch. If +one were to inquire on the spot one might probably find that the ladies +all believe it, and the old men; that all the young men know exactly how +much of it is false and how much true; and that the steady, middle-aged, +well-to-do islanders are quite convinced that it is romance from +beginning to end. My readers may range themselves with the ladies, the +young men, or the steady, well-to-do, middle-aged islanders, as they +please. + +Some years ago, soon after the prison was first established on its +present footing, three men did escape from it, and among them a certain +notorious prisoner named Aaron Trow. Trow’s antecedents in England had +not been so villanously bad as those of many of his fellow-convicts, +though the one offence for which he was punished had been of a deep dye: +he had shed man’s blood. At a period of great distress in a +manufacturing town he had led men on to riot, and with his own hand had +slain the first constable who had endeavoured to do his duty against him. +There had been courage in the doing of the deed, and probably no malice; +but the deed, let its moral blackness have been what it might, had sent +him to Bermuda, with a sentence against him of penal servitude for life. +Had he been then amenable to prison discipline,—even then, with such a +sentence against him as that,—he might have won his way back, after the +lapse of years, to the children, and perhaps, to the wife, that he had +left behind him; but he was amenable to no rules—to no discipline. His +heart was sore to death with an idea of injury, and he lashed himself +against the bars of his cage with a feeling that it would be well if he +could so lash himself till he might perish in his fury. + +And then a day came in which an attempt was made by a large body of +convicts, under his leadership, to get the better of the officers of the +prison. It is hardly necessary to say that the attempt failed. Such +attempts always fail. It failed on this occasion signally, and Trow, +with two other men, were condemned to be scourged terribly, and then kept +in solitary confinement for some lengthened term of months. Before, +however, the day of scourging came, Trow and his two associates had +escaped. + +I have not the space to tell how this was effected, nor the power to +describe the manner. They did escape from the establishment into the +islands, and though two of them were taken after a single day’s run at +liberty, Aaron Trow had not been yet retaken even when a week was over. +When a month was over he had not been retaken, and the officers of the +prison began to say that he had got away from them in a vessel to the +States. It was impossible, they said, that he should have remained in +the islands and not been discovered. It was not impossible that he might +have destroyed himself, leaving his body where it had not yet been found. +But he could not have lived on in Bermuda during that month’s search. +So, at least, said the officers of the prison. There was, however, a +report through the islands that he had been seen from time to time; that +he had gotten bread from the negroes at night, threatening them with +death if they told of his whereabouts; and that all the clothes of the +mate of a vessel had been stolen while the man was bathing, including a +suit of dark blue cloth, in which suit of clothes, or in one of such a +nature, a stranger had been seen skulking about the rocks near St. +George. All this the governor of the prison affected to disbelieve, but +the opinion was becoming very rife in the islands that Aaron Trow was +still there. + +A vigilant search, however, is a task of great labour, and cannot be kept +up for ever. By degrees it was relaxed. The warders and gaolers ceased +to patrol the island roads by night, and it was agreed that Aaron Trow +was gone, or that he would be starved to death, or that he would in time +be driven to leave such traces of his whereabouts as must lead to his +discovery; and this at last did turn out to be the fact. + +There is a sort of prettiness about these islands which, though it never +rises to the loveliness of romantic scenery, is nevertheless attractive +in its way. The land breaks itself into little knolls, and the sea runs +up, hither and thither, in a thousand creeks and inlets; and then, too, +when the oleanders are in bloom, they give a wonderfully bright colour to +the landscape. Oleanders seem to be the roses of Bermuda, and are +cultivated round all the villages of the better class through the +islands. There are two towns, St. George and Hamilton, and one main +high-road, which connects them; but even this high-road is broken by a +ferry, over which every vehicle going from St. George to Hamilton must be +conveyed. Most of the locomotion in these parts is done by boats, and +the residents look to the sea, with its narrow creeks, as their best +highway from their farms to their best market. In those days—and those +days were not very long since—the building of small ships was their chief +trade, and they valued their land mostly for the small scrubby +cedar-trees with which this trade was carried on. + +As one goes from St. George to Hamilton the road runs between two seas; +that to the right is the ocean; that on the left is an inland creek, +which runs up through a large portion of the islands, so that the land on +the other side of it is near to the traveller. For a considerable +portion of the way there are no houses lying near the road, and, there is +one residence, some way from the road, so secluded that no other house +lies within a mile of it by land. By water it might probably be reached +within half a mile. This place was called Crump Island, and here lived, +and had lived for many years, an old gentleman, a native of Bermuda, +whose business it had been to buy up cedar wood and sell it to the +ship-builders at Hamilton. In our story we shall not have very much to +do with old Mr. Bergen, but it will be necessary to say a word or two +about his house. + +It stood upon what would have been an island in the creek, had not a +narrow causeway, barely broad enough for a road, joined it to that larger +island on which stands the town of St. George. As the main road +approaches the ferry it runs through some rough, hilly, open ground, +which on the right side towards the ocean has never been cultivated. The +distance from the ocean here may, perhaps, be a quarter of a mile, and +the ground is for the most part covered with low furze. On the left of +the road the land is cultivated in patches, and here, some half mile or +more from the ferry, a path turns away to Crump Island. The house cannot +be seen from the road, and, indeed, can hardly be seen at all, except +from the sea. It lies, perhaps, three furlongs from the high road, and +the path to it is but little used, as the passage to and from it is +chiefly made by water. + +Here, at the time of our story, lived Mr. Bergen, and here lived Mr. +Bergen’s daughter. Miss Bergen was well known at St. George’s as a +steady, good girl, who spent her time in looking after her father’s +household matters, in managing his two black maid-servants and the black +gardener, and who did her duty in that sphere of life to which she had +been called. She was a comely, well-shaped young woman, with a sweet +countenance, rather large in size, and very quiet in demeanour. In her +earlier years, when young girls usually first bud forth into womanly +beauty, the neighbours had not thought much of Anastasia Bergen, nor had +the young men of St. George been wont to stay their boats under the +window of Crump Cottage in order that they might listen to her voice or +feel the light of her eye; but slowly, as years went by, Anastasia Bergen +became a woman that a man might well love; and a man learned to love her +who was well worthy of a woman’s heart. This was Caleb Morton, the +Presbyterian minister of St. George; and Caleb Morton had been engaged to +marry Miss Bergen for the last two years past, at the period of Aaron +Trow’s escape from prison. + +Caleb Morton was not a native of Bermuda, but had been sent thither by +the synod of his church from Nova Scotia. He was a tall, handsome man, +at this time of some thirty years of age, of a presence which might +almost have been called commanding. He was very strong, but of a +temperament which did not often give him opportunity to put forth his +strength; and his life had been such that neither he nor others knew of +what nature might be his courage. The greater part of his life was spent +in preaching to some few of the white people around him, and in teaching +as many of the blacks as he could get to hear him. His days were very +quiet, and had been altogether without excitement until he had met with +Anastasia Bergen. It will suffice for us to say that he did meet her, +and that now, for two years past, they had been engaged as man and wife. + +Old Mr. Bergen, when he heard of the engagement, was not well pleased at +the information. In the first place, his daughter was very necessary to +him, and the idea of her marrying and going away had hardly as yet +occurred to him; and then he was by no means inclined to part with any of +his money. It must not be presumed that he had amassed a fortune by his +trade in cedar wood. Few tradesmen in Bermuda do, as I imagine, amass +fortunes. Of some few hundred pounds he was possessed, and these, in the +course of nature, would go to his daughter when he died; but he had no +inclination to hand any portion of them over to his daughter before they +did go to her in the course of nature. Now, the income which Caleb +Morton earned as a Presbyterian clergyman was not large, and, therefore, +no day had been fixed as yet for his marriage with Anastasia. + +But, though the old man had been from the first averse to the match, his +hostility had not been active. He had not forbidden Mr. Morton his +house, or affected to be in any degree angry because his daughter had a +lover. He had merely grumbled forth an intimation that those who marry +in haste repent at leisure,—that love kept nobody warm if the pot did not +boil; and that, as for him, it was as much as he could do to keep his own +pot boiling at Crump Cottage. In answer to this Anastasia said nothing. +She asked him for no money, but still kept his accounts, managed his +household, and looked patiently forward for better days. + +Old Mr. Bergen himself spent much of his time at Hamilton, where he had a +woodyard with a couple of rooms attached to it. It was his custom to +remain here three nights of the week, during which Anastasia was left +alone at the cottage; and it happened by no means seldom that she was +altogether alone, for the negro whom they called the gardener would go to +her father’s place at Hamilton, and the two black girls would crawl away +up to the road, tired with the monotony of the sea at the cottage. Caleb +had more than once told her that she was too much alone, but she had +laughed at him, saying that solitude in Bermuda was not dangerous. Nor, +indeed, was it; for the people are quiet and well-mannered, lacking much +energy, but being, in the same degree, free from any propensity to +violence. + +“So you are going,” she said to her lover, one evening, as he rose from +the chair on which he had been swinging himself at the door of the +cottage which looks down over the creek of the sea. He had sat there for +an hour talking to her as she worked, or watching her as she moved about +the place. It was a beautiful evening, and the sun had been falling to +rest with almost tropical glory before his feet. The bright oleanders +were red with their blossoms all around him, and he had thoroughly +enjoyed his hour of easy rest. “So you are going,” she said to him, not +putting her work out of her hand as he rose to depart. + +“Yes; and it is time for me to go. I have still work to do before I can +get to bed. Ah, well; I suppose the day will come at last when I need +not leave you as soon as my hour of rest is over.” + +“Come; of course it will come. That is, if your reverence should choose +to wait for it another ten years or so.” + +“I believe you would not mind waiting twenty years.” + +“Not if a certain friend of mine would come down and see me of evenings +when I’m alone after the day. It seems to me that I shouldn’t mind +waiting as long as I had that to look for.” + +“You are right not to be impatient,” he said to her, after a pause, as he +held her hand before he went. “Quite right. I only wish I could school +myself to be as easy about it.” + +“I did not say I was easy,” said Anastasia. “People are seldom easy in +this world, I take it. I said I could be patient. Do not look in that +way, as though you pretended that you were dissatisfied with me. You +know that I am true to you, and you ought to be very proud of me.” + +“I am proud of you, Anastasia—” on hearing which she got up and +courtesied to him. “I am proud of you; so proud of you that I feel you +should not be left here all alone, with no one to help you if you were in +trouble.” + +“Women don’t get into trouble as men do, and do not want any one to help +them. If you were alone in the house you would have to go to bed without +your supper, because you could not make a basin of boiled milk ready for +your own meal. Now, when your reverence has gone, I shall go to work and +have my tea comfortably.” And then he did go, bidding God bless her as +he left her. Three hours after that he was disturbed in his own lodgings +by one of the negro girls from the cottage rushing to his door, and +begging him in Heaven’s name to come down to the assistance of her +mistress. + +When Morton left her, Anastasia did not proceed to do as she had said, +and seemed to have forgotten her evening meal. She had been working +sedulously with her needle during all that last conversation; but when +her lover was gone, she allowed the work to fall from her hands, and sat +motionless for awhile, gazing at the last streak of colour left by the +setting sun; but there was no longer a sign of its glory to be traced in +the heavens around her. The twilight in Bermuda is not long and enduring +as it is with us, though the daylight does not depart suddenly, leaving +the darkness of night behind it without any intermediate time of warning, +as is the case farther south, down among the islands of the tropics. But +the soft, sweet light of the evening had waned and gone, and night had +absolutely come upon her, while Anastasia was still seated before the +cottage with her eyes fixed upon the white streak of motionless sea which +was still visible through the gloom. She was thinking of him, of his +ways of life, of his happiness, and of her duty towards him. She had +told him, with her pretty feminine falseness, that she could wait without +impatience; but now she said to herself that it would not be good for him +to wait longer. He lived alone and without comfort, working very hard +for his poor pittance, and she could see, and feel, and understand that a +companion in his life was to him almost a necessity. She would tell her +father that all this must be brought to an end. She would not ask him +for money, but she would make him understand that her services must, at +any rate in part, be transferred. Why should not she and Morton still +live at the cottage when they were married? And so thinking, and at last +resolving, she sat there till the dark night fell upon her. + +She was at last disturbed by feeling a man’s hand upon her shoulder. She +jumped from her chair and faced him,—not screaming, for it was especially +within her power to control herself, and to make no utterance except with +forethought. Perhaps it might have been better for her had she screamed, +and sent a shrill shriek down the shore of that inland sea. She was +silent, however, and with awe-struck face and outstretched hands gazed +into the face of him who still held her by the shoulder. The night was +dark; but her eyes were now accustomed to the darkness, and she could see +indistinctly something of his features. He was a low-sized man, dressed +in a suit of sailor’s blue clothing, with a rough cap of hair on his +head, and a beard that had not been clipped for many weeks. His eyes +were large, and hollow, and frightfully bright, so that she seemed to see +nothing else of him; but she felt the strength of his fingers as he +grasped her tighter and more tightly by the arm. + +“Who are you?” she said, after a moment’s pause. + +“Do you know me?” he asked. + +“Know you! No.” But the words were hardly out of her mouth before it +struck her that the man was Aaron Trow, of whom every one in Bermuda had +been talking. + +“Come into the house,” he said, “and give me food.” And he still held +her with his hand as though he would compel her to follow him. + +She stood for a moment thinking what she would say to him; for even then, +with that terrible man standing close to her in the darkness, her +presence of mind did not desert her. “Surely,” she said, “I will give +you food if you are hungry. But take your hand from me. No man would +lay his hands on a woman.” + +“A woman!” said the stranger. “What does the starved wolf care for that? +A woman’s blood is as sweet to him as that of a man. Come into the +house, I tell you.” And then she preceded him through the open door into +the narrow passage, and thence to the kitchen. There she saw that the +back door, leading out on the other side of the house, was open, and she +knew that he had come down from the road and entered on that side. She +threw her eyes around, looking for the negro girls; but they were away, +and she remembered that there was no human being within sound of her +voice but this man who had told her that he was as a wolf thirsty after +her blood! + +“Give me food at once,” he said. + +“And will you go if I give it you?” she asked. + +“I will knock out your brains if you do not,” he replied, lifting from +the grate a short, thick poker which lay there. “Do as I bid you at +once. You also would be like a tiger if you had fasted for two days, as +I have done.” + +She could see, as she moved across the kitchen, that he had already +searched there for something that he might eat, but that he had searched +in vain. With the close economy common among his class in the islands, +all comestibles were kept under close lock and key in the house of Mr. +Bergen. Their daily allowance was given day by day to the negro +servants, and even the fragments were then gathered up and locked away in +safety. She moved across the kitchen to the accustomed cupboard, taking +the keys from her pocket, and he followed close upon her. There was a +small oil lamp hanging from the low ceiling which just gave them light to +see each other. She lifted her hand to this to take it from its hook, +but he prevented her. “No, by Heaven!” he said, “you don’t touch that +till I’ve done with it. There’s light enough for you to drag out your +scraps.” + +She did drag out her scraps and a bowl of milk, which might hold perhaps +a quart. There was a fragment of bread, a morsel of cold potato-cake, +and the bone of a leg of kid. “And is that all?” said he. But as he +spoke he fleshed his teeth against the bone as a dog would have done. + +“It is the best I have,” she said; “I wish it were better, and you should +have had it without violence, as you have suffered so long from hunger.” + +“Bah! Better; yes! You would give the best no doubt, and set the hell +hounds on my track the moment I am gone. I know how much I might expect +from your charity.” + +“I would have fed you for pity’s sake,” she answered. + +“Pity! Who are you, that you should dare to pity me! By —, my young +woman, it is I that pity you. I must cut your throat unless you give me +money. Do you know that?” + +“Money! I have got no money.” + +“I’ll make you have some before I go. Come; don’t move till I have +done.” And as he spoke to her he went on tugging at the bone, and +swallowing the lumps of stale bread. He had already finished the bowl of +milk. “And, now,” said he, “tell me who I am.” + +“I suppose you are Aaron Trow,” she answered, very slowly. He said +nothing on hearing this, but continued his meal, standing close to her so +that she might not possibly escape from him out into the darkness. Twice +or thrice in those few minutes she made up her mind to make such an +attempt, feeling that it would be better to leave him in possession of +the house, and make sure, if possible, of her own life. There was no +money there; not a dollar! What money her father kept in his possession +was locked up in his safe at Hamilton. And might he not keep to his +threat, and murder her, when he found that she could give him nothing? +She did not tremble outwardly, as she stood there watching him as he ate, +but she thought how probable it might be that her last moments were very +near. And yet she could scrutinise his features, form, and garments, so +as to carry away in her mind a perfect picture of them. Aaron Trow—for +of course it was the escaped convict—was not a man of frightful, hideous +aspect. Had the world used him well, giving him when he was young ample +wages and separating him from turbulent spirits, he also might have used +the world well; and then women would have praised the brightness of his +eye and the manly vigour of his brow. But things had not gone well with +him. He had been separated from the wife he had loved, and the children +who had been raised at his knee,—separated by his own violence; and now, +as he had said of himself, he was a wolf rather than a man. As he stood +there satisfying the craving of his appetite, breaking up the large +morsels of food, he was an object very sad to be seen. Hunger had made +him gaunt and yellow, he was squalid with the dirt of his hidden lair, +and he had the look of a beast;—that look to which men fall when they +live like the brutes of prey, as outcasts from their brethren. But still +there was that about his brow which might have redeemed him,—which might +have turned her horror into pity, had he been willing that it should be +so. + +“And now give me some brandy,” he said. + +There was brandy in the house,—in the sitting-room which was close at +their hand, and the key of the little press which held it was in her +pocket. It was useless, she thought, to refuse him; and so she told him +that there was a bottle partly full, but that she must go to the next +room to fetch it him. + +“We’ll go together, my darling,” he said. “There’s nothing like good +company.” And he again put his hand upon her arm as they passed into the +family sitting-room. + +“I must take the light,” she said. But he unhooked it himself, and +carried it in his own hand. + +Again she went to work without trembling. She found the key of the side +cupboard, and unlocking the door, handed him a bottle which might contain +about half-a-pint of spirits. “And is that all?” he said. + +“There is a full bottle here,” she answered, handing him another; “but if +you drink it, you will be drunk, and they will catch you.” + +“By Heavens, yes; and you would be the first to help them; would you +not?” + +“Look here,” she answered. “If you will go now, I will not say a word to +any one of your coming, nor set them on your track to follow you. There, +take the full bottle with you. If you will go, you shall be safe from +me.” + +“What, and go without money!” + +“I have none to give you. You may believe me when I say so. I have not +a dollar in the house.” + +Before he spoke again he raised the half empty bottle to his mouth, and +drank as long as there was a drop to drink. “There,” said he, putting +the bottle down, “I am better after that. As to the other, you are +right, and I will take it with me. And now, young woman, about the +money?” + +“I tell you that I have not a dollar.” + +“Look here,” said he, and he spoke now in a softer voice, as though he +would be on friendly terms with her. “Give me ten sovereigns, and I will +go. I know you have it, and with ten sovereigns it is possible that I +may save my life. You are good, and would not wish that a man should die +so horrid a death. I know you are good. Come, give me the money.” And +he put his hands up, beseeching her, and looked into her face with +imploring eyes. + +“On the word of a Christian woman I have not got money to give you,” she +replied. + +“Nonsense!” And as he spoke he took her by the arm and shook her. He +shook her violently so that he hurt her, and her breath for a moment was +all but gone from her. “I tell you you must make dollars before I leave +you, or I will so handle you that it would have been better for you to +coin your very blood.” + +“May God help me at my need,” she said, “as I have not above a few penny +pieces in the house.” + +“And you expect me to believe that! Look here! I will shake the teeth +out of your head, but I will have it from you.” And he did shake her +again, using both his hands and striking her against the wall. + +“Would you—murder me?” she said, hardly able now to utter the words. + +“Murder you, yes; why not? I cannot be worse than I am, were I to murder +you ten times over. But with money I may possibly be better.” + +“I have it not.” + +“Then I will do worse than murder you. I will make you such an object +that all the world shall loathe to look on you.” And so saying he took +her by the arm and dragged her forth from the wall against which she had +stood. + +Then there came from her a shriek that was heard far down the shore of +that silent sea, and away across to the solitary houses of those living +on the other side,—a shriek, very sad, sharp, and prolonged,—which told +plainly to those who heard it of woman’s woe when in her extremest peril. +That sound was spoken of in Bermuda for many a day after that, as +something which had been terrible to hear. But then, at that moment, as +it came wailing through the dark, it sounded as though it were not human. +Of those who heard it, not one guessed from whence it came, nor was the +hand of any brother put forward to help that woman at her need. + +“Did you hear that?” said the young wife to her husband, from the far +side of the arm of the sea. + +“Hear it! Oh Heaven, yes! Whence did it come?” The young wife could +not say from whence it came, but clung close to her husband’s breast, +comforting herself with the knowledge that that terrible sorrow was not +hers. + +But aid did come at last, or rather that which seemed as aid. Long and +terrible was the fight between that human beast of prey and the poor +victim which had fallen into his talons. Anastasia Bergen was a strong, +well-built woman, and now that the time had come to her when a struggle +was necessary, a struggle for life, for honour, for the happiness of him +who was more to her than herself, she fought like a tigress attacked in +her own lair. At such a moment as this she also could become wild and +savage as the beast of the forest. When he pinioned her arms with one of +his, as he pressed her down upon the floor, she caught the first joint of +the forefinger of his other hand between her teeth till he yelled in +agony, and another sound was heard across the silent water. And then, +when one hand was loosed in the struggle, she twisted it through his long +hair, and dragged back his head till his eyes were nearly starting from +their sockets. Anastasia Bergen had hitherto been a sheer woman, all +feminine in her nature. But now the foam came to her mouth, and fire +sprang from her eyes, and the muscles of her body worked as though she +had been trained to deeds of violence. Of violence, Aaron Trow had known +much in his rough life, but never had he combated with harder antagonist +than her whom he now held beneath his breast. + +“By—I will put an end to you,” he exclaimed, in his wrath, as he struck +her violently across the face with his elbow. His hand was occupied, and +he could not use it for a blow, but, nevertheless, the violence was so +great that the blood gushed from her nostrils, while the back of her head +was driven with violence against the floor. But she did not lose her +hold of him. Her hand was still twined closely through his thick hair, +and in every move he made she clung to him with all her might. “Leave go +my hair,” he shouted at her, but she still kept her hold, though he again +dashed her head against the floor. + +There was still light in the room, for when he first grasped her with +both his hands, he had put the lamp down on a small table. Now they were +rolling on the floor together, and twice he had essayed to kneel on her +that he might thus crush the breath from her body, and deprive her +altogether of her strength; but she had been too active for him, moving +herself along the ground, though in doing so she dragged him with her. +But by degrees he got one hand at liberty, and with that he pulled a +clasp knife out of his pocket and opened it. “I will cut your head off +if you do not let go my hair,” he said. But still she held fast by him. +He then stabbed at her arm, using his left hand and making short, +ineffectual blows. Her dress partly saved her, and partly also the +continual movement of all her limbs; but, nevertheless, the knife wounded +her. It wounded her in several places about the arm, covering them both +with blood;—but still she hung on. So close was her grasp in her agony, +that, as she afterwards found, she cut the skin of her own hands with her +own nails. Had the man’s hair been less thick or strong, or her own +tenacity less steadfast, he would have murdered her before any +interruption could have saved her. + +And yet he had not purposed to murder her, or even, in the first +instance, to inflict on her any bodily harm. But he had been determined +to get money. With such a sum of money as he had named, it might, he +thought, be possible for him to win his way across to America. He might +bribe men to hide him in the hold of a ship, and thus there might be for +him, at any rate, a possibility of escape. That there must be money in +the house he had still thought when first he laid hands on the poor +woman; and then, when the struggle had once begun, when he had felt her +muscles contending with his, the passion of the beast was aroused within +him, and he strove against her as he would have striven against a dog. +But yet, when the knife was in his hand, he had not driven it against her +heart. + +Then suddenly, while they were yet rolling on the floor, there was a +sound of footsteps in the passage. Aaron Trow instantly leaped to his +feet, leaving his victim on the ground, with huge lumps of his thick +clotted hair in her hand. Thus, and thus only, could he have liberated +himself from her grasp. He rushed at the door, and there he came against +the two negro servant-girls who had returned down to their kitchen from +the road on which they had been straying. Trow, as he half saw them in +the dark, not knowing how many there might be, or whether there was a man +among them, rushed through them, upsetting one scared girl in his +passage. With the instinct and with the timidity of a beast, his impulse +now was to escape, and he hurried away back to the road and to his lair, +leaving the three women together in the cottage. Poor wretch! As he +crossed the road, not skulking in his impotent haste, but running at his +best, another pair of eyes saw him, and when the search became hot after +him, it was known that his hiding-place was not distant. + +It was some time before any of the women were able to act, and when some +step was taken, Anastasia was the first to take it. She had not +absolutely swooned, but the reaction, after the violence of her efforts, +was so great, that for some minutes she had been unable to speak. She +had risen from the floor when Trow left her, and had even followed him to +the door; but since that she had fallen back into her father’s old +arm-chair, and there sat gasping not only for words, but for breath also. + +At last she bade one of the girls to run into St. George, and beg Mr. +Morton to come to her aid. The girl would not stir without her +companion; and even then, Anastasia, covered as she was with blood, with +dishevelled hair, and her clothes half torn from her body, accompanied +them as far as the road. There they found a negro lad still hanging +about the place, and he told them that he had seen the man cross the +road, and run down over the open ground towards the rocks of the +sea-coast. “He must be there,” said the lad, pointing in the direction +of a corner of the rocks; “unless he swim across the mouth of the ferry.” +But the mouth of that ferry is an arm of the sea, and it was not probable +that a man would do that when he might have taken the narrow water by +keeping on the other side of the road. + +At about one that night Caleb Morton reached the cottage breathless with +running, and before a word was spoken between them, Anastasia had fallen +on his shoulder and had fainted. As soon as she was in the arms of her +lover, all her power had gone from her. The spirit and passion of the +tiger had gone, and she was again a weak woman shuddering at the thought +of what she had suffered. She remembered that she had had the man’s hand +between her teeth, and by degrees she found his hair still clinging to +her fingers; but even then she could hardly call to mind the nature of +the struggle she had undergone. His hot breath close to her own cheek +she did remember, and his glaring eyes, and even the roughness of his +beard as he pressed his face against her own; but she could not say +whence had come the blood, nor till her arm became stiff and motionless +did she know that she had been wounded. + +It was all joy with her now, as she sat motionless without speaking, +while he administered to her wants and spoke words of love into her ears. +She remembered the man’s horrid threat, and knew that by God’s mercy she +had been saved. And he was there caressing her, loving her, comforting +her! As she thought of the fate that had threatened her, of the evil +that had been so imminent, she fell forward on her knees, and with +incoherent sobs uttered her thanksgivings, while her head was still +supported on his arms. + +It was almost morning before she could induce herself to leave him and +lie down. With him she seemed to be so perfectly safe; but the moment he +was away she could see Aaron Trow’s eyes gleaming at her across the room. +At last, however, she slept; and when he saw that she was at rest, he +told himself that his work must then begin. Hitherto Caleb Morton had +lived in all respects the life of a man of peace; but now, asking himself +no questions as to the propriety of what he would do, using no inward +arguments as to this or that line of conduct, he girded the sword on his +loins, and prepared himself for war. The wretch who had thus treated the +woman whom he loved should be hunted down like a wild beast, as long as +he had arms and legs with which to carry on the hunt. He would pursue +the miscreant with any weapons that might come to his hands; and might +Heaven help him at his need as he dealt forth punishment to that man, if +he caught him within his grasp. Those who had hitherto known Morton in +the island, could not recognise the man as he came forth on that day, +thirsty after blood, and desirous to thrust himself into personal +conflict with the wild ruffian who had injured him. The meek +Presbyterian minister had been a preacher, preaching ways of peace, and +living in accordance with his own doctrines. The world had been very +quiet for him, and he had walked quietly in his appointed path. But now +the world was quiet no longer, nor was there any preaching of peace. His +cry was for blood; for the blood of the untamed savage brute who had come +upon his young doe in her solitude, and striven with such brutal violence +to tear her heart from her bosom. + +He got to his assistance early in the morning some of the constables from +St. George, and before the day was over, he was joined by two or three of +the warders from the convict establishment. There was with him also a +friend or two, and thus a party was formed, numbering together ten or +twelve persons. They were of course all armed, and therefore it might be +thought that there would be but small chance for the wretched man if they +should come upon his track. At first they all searched together, +thinking from the tidings which had reached them that he must be near to +them; but gradually they spread themselves along the rocks between St. +George and the ferry, keeping watchman on the road, so that he should not +escape unnoticed into the island. + +Ten times during the day did Anastasia send from the cottage up to +Morton, begging him to leave the search to others, and come down to her. +But not for a moment would he lose the scent of his prey. What! should +it be said that she had been so treated, and that others had avenged her? +He sent back to say that her father was with her now, and that he would +come when his work was over. And in that job of work the life-blood of +Aaron Trow was counted up. + +Towards evening they were all congregated on the road near to the spot at +which the path turns off towards the cottage, when a voice was heard +hallooing to them from the summit of a little hill which lies between the +road and the sea on the side towards the ferry, and presently a boy came +running down to them full of news. “Danny Lund has seen him,” said the +boy, “he has seen him plainly in among the rocks.” And then came Danny +Lund himself, a small negro lad about fourteen years of age, who was +known in those parts as the idlest, most dishonest, and most useless of +his race. On this occasion, however, Danny Lund became important, and +every one listened to him. He had seen, he said, a pair of eyes moving +down in a cave of the rocks which he well knew. He had been in the cave +often, he said, and could get there again. But not now; not while that +pair of eyes was moving at the bottom of it. And so they all went up +over the hill, Morton leading the way with hot haste. In his waist-band +he held a pistol, and his hand grasped a short iron bar with which he had +armed himself. They ascended the top of the hill, and when there, the +open sea was before them on two sides, and on the third was the narrow +creek over which the ferry passed. Immediately beneath their feet were +the broken rocks; for on that side, towards the sea, the earth and grass +of the hill descended but a little way towards the water. Down among the +rocks they all went, silently, Caleb Morton leading the way, and Danny +Lund directing him from behind. + +“Mr. Morton,” said an elderly man from St. George, “had you not better +let the warders of the gaol go first; he is a desperate man, and they +will best understand his ways?” + +In answer to this Morton said nothing, but he would let no one put a foot +before him. He still pressed forward among the rocks, and at last came +to a spot from whence he might have sprung at one leap into the ocean. +It was a broken cranny on the sea-shore into which the sea beat, and +surrounded on every side but the one by huge broken fragments of stone, +which at first sight seemed as though they would have admitted of a path +down among them to the water’s edge; but which, when scanned more +closely, were seen to be so large in size, that no man could climb from +one to another. It was a singularly romantic spot, but now well known to +them all there, for they had visited it over and over again that morning. + +“In there,” said Danny Lund, keeping well behind Morton’s body, and +pointing at the same time to a cavern high up among the rocks, but quite +on the opposite side of the little inlet of the sea. The mouth of the +cavern was not twenty yards from where they stood, but at the first sight +it seemed as though it must be impossible to reach it. The precipice on +the brink of which they all now stood, ran down sheer into the sea, and +the fall from the mouth of the cavern on the other side was as steep. +But Danny solved the mystery by pointing upwards, and showing them how he +had been used to climb to a projecting rock over their heads, and from +thence creep round by certain vantages of the stone till he was able to +let himself down into the aperture. But now, at the present moment, he +was unwilling to make essay of his prowess as a cragsman. He had, he +said, been up on that projecting rock thrice, and there had seen the eyes +moving in the cavern. He was quite sure of that fact of the pair of +eyes, and declined to ascend the rock again. + +Traces soon became visible to them by which they knew that some one had +passed in and out of the cavern recently. The stone, when examined, bore +those marks of friction which passage and repassage over it will always +give. At the spot from whence the climber left the platform and +commenced his ascent, the side of the stone had been rubbed by the close +friction of a man’s body. A light boy like Danny Lund might find his way +in and out without leaving such marks behind him, but no heavy man could +do so. Thus before long they all were satisfied that Aaron Trow was in +the cavern before them. + +Then there was a long consultation as to what they would do to carry on +the hunt, and how they would drive the tiger from his lair. That he +should not again come out, except to fall into their hands, was to all of +them a matter of course. They would keep watch and ward there, though it +might be for days and nights. But that was a process which did not +satisfy Morton, and did not indeed well satisfy any of them. It was not +only that they desired to inflict punishment on the miscreant in +accordance with the law, but also that they did not desire that the +miserable man should die in a hole like a starved dog, and that then they +should go after him to take out his wretched skeleton. There was +something in that idea so horrid in every way, that all agreed that +active steps must be taken. The warders of the prison felt that they +would all be disgraced if they could not take their prisoner alive. Yet +who would get round that perilous ledge in the face of such an adversary? +A touch to any man while climbing there would send him headlong down +among the wave! And then his fancy told to each what might be the nature +of an embrace with such an animal as that, driven to despair, hopeless of +life, armed, as they knew, at any rate, with a knife! If the first +adventurous spirit should succeed in crawling round that ledge, what +would be the reception which he might expect in the terrible depth of +that cavern? + +They called to their prisoner, bidding him come out, and telling him that +they would fire in upon him if he did not show himself; but not a sound +was heard. It was indeed possible that they should send their bullets +to, perhaps, every corner of the cavern; and if so, in that way they +might slaughter him; but even of this they were not sure. Who could tell +that there might not be some protected nook in which he could lay secure? +And who could tell when the man was struck, or whether he were wounded? + +“I will get to him,” said Morton, speaking with a low dogged voice, and +so saying he clambered up to the rock to which Danny Lund had pointed. +Many voices at once attempted to restrain him, and one or two put their +hands upon him to keep him back, but he was too quick for them, and now +stood upon the ledge of rock. “Can you see him?” they asked below. + +“I can see nothing within the cavern,” said Morton. + +“Look down very hard, Massa,” said Danny, “very hard indeed, down in deep +dark hole, and then see him big eyes moving!” + +Morton now crept along the ledge, or rather he was beginning to do so, +having put forward his shoulders and arms to make a first step in advance +from the spot on which he was resting, when a hand was put forth from one +corner of the cavern’s mouth,—a hand armed with a pistol;—and a shot was +fired. There could be no doubt now but that Danny Lund was right, and no +doubt now as to the whereabouts of Aaron Trow. + +A hand was put forth, a pistol was fired, and Caleb Morton still clinging +to a corner of the rock with both his arms was seen to falter. “He is +wounded,” said one of the voices from below; and then they all expected +to see him fall into the sea. But he did not fall, and after a moment or +two, he proceeded carefully to pick his steps along the ledge. The ball +had touched him, grazing his cheek, and cutting through the light +whiskers that he wore; but he had not felt it, though the blow had nearly +knocked him from his perch. And then four or five shots were fired from +the rocks into the mouth of the cavern. The man’s arm had been seen, and +indeed one or two declared that they had traced the dim outline of his +figure. But no sound was heard to come from the cavern, except the sharp +crack of the bullets against the rock, and the echo of the gunpowder. +There had been no groan as of a man wounded, no sound of a body falling, +no voice wailing in despair. For a few seconds all was dark with the +smoke of the gunpowder, and then the empty mouth of the cave was again +yawning before their eyes. Morton was now near it, still cautiously +creeping. The first danger to which he was exposed was this; that his +enemy within the recess might push him down from the rocks with a touch. +But on the other hand, there were three or four men ready to fire, the +moment that a hand should be put forth; and then Morton could swim,—was +known to be a strong swimmer;—whereas of Aaron Trow it was already +declared by the prison gaolers that he could not swim. Two of the +warders had now followed Morton on the rocks, so that in the event of his +making good his entrance into the cavern, and holding his enemy at bay +for a minute, he would be joined by aid. + +It was strange to see how those different men conducted themselves as +they stood on the opposite platform watching the attack. The officers +from the prison had no other thought but of their prisoner, and were +intent on taking him alive or dead. To them it was little or nothing +what became of Morton. It was their business to encounter peril, and +they were ready to do so;—feeling, however, by no means sorry to have +such a man as Morton in advance of them. Very little was said by them. +They had their wits about them, and remembered that every word spoken for +the guidance of their ally would be heard also by the escaped convict. +Their prey was sure, sooner or later, and had not Morton been so eager in +his pursuit, they would have waited till some plan had been devised of +trapping him without danger. But the townsmen from St. George, of whom +some dozen were now standing there, were quick and eager and loud in +their counsels. “Stay where you are, Mr. Morton,—stay awhile for the +love of God—or he’ll have you down.” “Now’s your time, Caleb; in on him +now, and you’ll have him.” “Close with him, Morton, close with him at +once; it’s your only chance.” “There’s four of us here; we’ll fire on +him if he as much as shows a limb.” All of which words as they were +heard by that poor wretch within, must have sounded to him as the barking +of a pack of hounds thirsting for his blood. For him at any rate there +was no longer any hope in this world. + +My reader, when chance has taken you into the hunting-field, has it ever +been your lot to sit by on horseback, and watch the digging out of a fox? +The operation is not an uncommon one, and in some countries it is held to +be in accordance with the rules of fair sport. For myself, I think that +when the brute has so far saved himself, he should be entitled to the +benefit of his cunning; but I will not now discuss the propriety or +impropriety of that practice in venery. I can never, however, watch the +doing of that work without thinking much of the agonising struggles of +the poor beast whose last refuge is being torn from over his head. There +he lies within a few yards of his arch enemy, the huntsman. The thick +breath of the hounds make hot the air within his hole. The sound of +their voices is close upon his ears. His breast is nearly bursting with +the violence of that effort which at last has brought him to his retreat. +And then pickaxe and mattock are plied above his head, and nearer and +more near to him press his foes,—his double foes, human and canine,—till +at last a huge hand grasps him, and he is dragged forth among his +enemies. Almost as soon as his eyes have seen the light the eager noses +of a dozen hounds have moistened themselves in his entrails. Ah me! I +know that he is vermin, the vermin after whom I have been risking my +neck, with a bold ambition that I might ultimately witness his +death-struggles; but, nevertheless, I would fain have saved him that last +half hour of gradually diminished hope. + +And Aaron Trow was now like a hunted fox, doomed to be dug out from his +last refuge, with this addition to his misery, that these hounds when +they caught their prey, would not put him at once out of his misery. +When first he saw that throng of men coming down from the hill top and +resting on the platform; he knew that his fate was come. When they +called to him to surrender himself he was silent, but he knew that his +silence was of no avail. To them who were so eager to be his captors the +matter seemed to be still one of considerable difficulty; but, to his +thinking, there was no difficulty. There were there some score of men, +fully armed, within twenty yards of him. If he but showed a trace of his +limbs he would become a mark for their bullets. And then if he were +wounded, and no one would come to him! If they allowed him to lie there +without food till he perished! Would it not be well for him to yield +himself? Then they called again and he was still silent. That idea of +yielding is very terrible to the heart of a man. And when the worst had +come to the worst, did not the ocean run deep beneath his cavern’s month? + +But as they yelled at him and hallooed, making their preparations for his +death, his presence of mind deserted the poor wretch. He had stolen an +old pistol on one of his marauding expeditions, of which one barrel had +been loaded. That in his mad despair he had fired; and now, as he lay +near the mouth of the cavern, under the cover of the projecting stone, he +had no weapon with him but his hands. He had had a knife, but that had +dropped from him during the struggle on the floor of the cottage. He had +now nothing but his hands, and was considering how he might best use them +in ridding himself of the first of his pursuers. The man was near him, +armed, with all the power and majesty of right on his side; whereas on +his side, Aaron Trow had nothing,—not a hope. He raised his head that he +might look forth, and a dozen voices shouted as his face appeared above +the aperture. A dozen weapons were levelled at him, and he could see the +gleaming of the muzzles of the guns. And then the foot of his pursuer +was already on the corner stone at the cavern’s mouth. “Now, Caleb, on +him at once!” shouted a voice. Ah me! it was a moment in which to pity +even such a man as Aaron Trow. + +“Now, Caleb, at him at once!” shouted the voice. No, by heavens; not so, +even yet! The sound of triumph in those words raised the last burst of +energy in the breast of that wretched man; and he sprang forth, head +foremost, from his prison house. Forth he came, manifest enough before +the eyes of them all, and with head well down, and hands outstretched, +but with his wide glaring eyes still turned towards his pursuers as he +fell, he plunged down into the waves beneath him. Two of those who stood +by, almost unconscious of what they did, fired at his body as it made its +rapid way to the water; but, as they afterwards found, neither of the +bullets struck him. Morton, when his prey thus leaped forth, escaping +him for awhile, was already on the verge of the cavern,—had even then +prepared his foot for that onward spring which should bring him to the +throat of his foe. But he arrested himself, and for a moment stood there +watching the body as it struck the water, and hid itself at once beneath +the ripple. He stood there for a moment watching the deed and its +effect, and then leaving his hold upon the rock, he once again followed +his quarry. Down he went, head foremost, right on to the track in the +waves which the other had made; and when the two rose to the surface +together, each was struggling in the grasp of the other. + +It was a foolish, nay, a mad deed to do. The poor wretch who had first +fallen could not have escaped. He could not even swim, and had therefore +flung himself to certain destruction when he took that leap from out of +the cavern’s mouth. It would have been sad to see him perish beneath the +waves,—to watch him as he rose, gasping for breath, and then to see to +him sinking again, to rise again, and then to go for ever. But his life +had been fairly forfeit,—and why should one so much more precious have +been flung after it? It was surely with no view of saving that pitiful +life that Caleb Morton had leaped after his enemy. But the hound, hot +with the chase, will follow the stag over the precipice and dash himself +to pieces against the rocks. The beast thirsting for blood will rush in +even among the weapons of men. Morton in his fury had felt but one +desire, burned with but one passion. If the Fates would but grant him to +fix his clutches in the throat of the man who had ill-used his love; for +the rest it might all go as it would. + +In the earlier part of the morning, while they were all searching for +their victim, they had brought a boat up into this very inlet among the +rocks; and the same boat had been at hand during the whole day. +Unluckily, before they had come hither, it had been taken round the +headland to a place among the rocks at which a government skiff is always +moored. The sea was still so quiet that there was hardly a ripple on it, +and the boat had been again sent for when first it was supposed that they +had at last traced Aaron Trow to his hiding-place. Anxiously now were +all eyes turned to the headland, but as yet no boat was there. + +The two men rose to the surface, each struggling in the arms of the +other. Trow, though he was in an element to which he was not used, +though he had sprung thither as another suicide might spring to certain +death beneath a railway engine, did not altogether lose his presence of +mind. Prompted by a double instinct, he had clutched hold of Morton’s +body when he encountered it beneath the waters. He held on to it, as to +his only protection, and he held on to him also as to his only enemy. If +there was a chance for a life struggle, they would share that chance +together; and if not, then together would they meet that other fate. + +Caleb Morton was a very strong man, and though one of his arms was +altogether encumbered by his antagonist, his other arm and his legs were +free. With these he seemed to succeed in keeping his head above the +water, weighted as he was with the body of his foe. But Trow’s efforts +were also used with the view of keeping himself above the water. Though +he had purposed to destroy himself in taking that leap, and now hoped for +nothing better than that they might both perish together, he yet +struggled to keep his head above the waves. Bodily power he had none +left to him, except that of holding on to Morton’s arm and plunging with +his legs; but he did hold on, and thus both their heads remained above +the surface. + +But this could not last long. It was easy to see that Trow’s strength +was nearly spent, and that when he went down Morton must go with him. If +indeed they could be separated,—if Morton could once make himself free +from that embrace into which he had been so anxious to leap,—then indeed +there might be a hope. All round that little inlet the rock fell sheer +down into the deep sea, so that there was no resting-place for a foot; it +but round the headlands on either side, even within forty or fifty yards +of that spot, Morton might rest on the rocks, till a boat should come to +his assistance. To him that distance would have been nothing, if only +his limbs had been at liberty. + +Upon the platform of rocks they were all at their wits’ ends. Many were +anxious to fire at Trow; but even if they hit him, would Morton’s +position have been better? Would not the wounded man have still clung to +him who was not wounded? And then there could be no certainty that any +one of them would hit the right man. The ripple of the waves, though it +was very slight, nevertheless sufficed to keep the bodies in motion; and +then, too, there was not among them any marksman peculiar for his skill. + +Morton’s efforts in the water were too severe to admit of his speaking, +but he could hear and understand the words which were addressed to him. +“Shake him off, Caleb.” “Strike him from you with your foot.” “Swim to +the right shore; swim for it, even if you take him with you.” Yes; he +could hear them all; but hearing and obeying were very different. It was +not easy to shake off that dying man; and as for swimming with him, that +was clearly impossible. It was as much as he could do to keep his head +above water, let alone any attempt to move in one settled direction. + +For some four or five minutes they lay thus battling on the waves before +the head of either of them went down. Trow had been twice below the +surface, but it was before he had succeeded in supporting himself by +Morton’s arm. Now it seemed as though he must sink again,—as though both +must sink. His mouth was barely kept above the water, and as Morton +shook him with his arm, the tide would pass over him. It was horrid to +watch from the shore the glaring upturned eyes of the dying wretch, as +his long streaming hair lay back upon the wave. “Now, Caleb, hold him +down. Hold him under,” was shouted in the voice of some eager friend. +Rising up on the water, Morton made a last effort to do as he was bid. +He did press the man’s head down,—well down below the surface,—but still +the hand clung to him, and as he struck out against the water, he was +powerless against that grasp. + +Then there came a loud shout along the shore, and all those on the +platform, whose eyes had been fixed so closely on that terrible struggle +beneath them, rushed towards the rocks on the other coast. The sound of +oars was heard close to them,—an eager pressing stroke, as of men who +knew well that they were rowing for the salvation of a life. On they +came, close under the rocks, obeying with every muscle of their bodies +the behests of those who called to them from the shore. The boat came +with such rapidity,—was so recklessly urged, that it was driven somewhat +beyond the inlet; but in passing, a blow was struck which made Caleb +Morton once more the master of his own life. The two men had been +carried out in their struggle towards the open sea; and as the boat +curved in, so as to be as close as the rocks would allow, the bodies of +the men were brought within the sweep of the oars. He in the bow—for +there were four pulling in the boat—had raised his oar as he neared the +rocks,—had raised it high above the water; and now, as they passed close +by the struggling men, he let it fall with all its force on the upturned +face of the wretched convict. It was a terrible, frightful thing to +do,—thus striking one who was so stricken; but who shall say that the +blow was not good and just? Methinks, however, that the eyes and face of +that dying man will haunt for ever the dreams of him who carried that +oar! + +Trow never rose again to the surface. Three days afterwards his body was +found at the ferry, and then they carried him to the convict island and +buried him. Morton was picked up and taken into the boat. His life was +saved; but it may be a question how the battle might have gone had not +that friendly oar been raised in his behalf. As it was, he lay at the +cottage for days before he was able to be moved, so as to receive the +congratulations of those who had watched that terrible conflict from the +shore. Nor did he feel that there had been anything in that day’s work +of which he could be proud;—much rather of which it behoved him to be +thoroughly ashamed. Some six months after that he obtained the hand of +Anastasia Bergen, but they did not remain long in Bermuda. “He went +away, back to his own country,” my informant told me; “because he could +not endure to meet the ghost of Aaron Trow, at that point of the road +which passes near the cottage.” That the ghost of Aaron Trow may be seen +there and round the little rocky inlet of the sea, is part of the creed +of every young woman in Bermuda. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AARON TROW*** + + +******* This file should be named 3713-0.txt or 3713-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/7/1/3713 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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