to her in the light of a noble and sublime sacrifice, now appeared in its true colours-an act of mad folly, and a crime both to herself, and Gerald. Yes, now burst upon her in all its insupportable horror, the discovery that her suicide, besides being a crime, was a mistake! Too late she recognised the solemn truth that all wickedness is folly." Now, she asked herself, how her death was really to benefit Gerald? Standing on the brink of the grave, she knew by the absorbing love she felt for Gerald, how deeply he must love her. And she, she had severed the link which united them! What if, unable to support her loss, Gerald died, or went mad! Oh, fool! fool! not to have thought of this possibility or probability before! Now, she saw too clearly how she had been duped by Covert. And she was about to die, without seeing Gerald, without an opportunity of confessing her motive, and perhaps he would never know she had died for his sake-he would think her vile! He might curse her memory. Now that her hallucination was gone, like every other human being, Miriam desired that her posthumous fame should be unsullied by the breath of slander. Oh, what a guilty being was she, about to stand in the presence of her Maker, by her own act! The horror of these thoughts for a time overpowered the gradually increasing pangs of physical pain. Suddenly darted into Miriam's mind, the thought that even now perhaps it was not too late. Perhaps her life might still be saved by the resources of medical skill. The hope of living for Gerald, gave her temporary strength. She tottered to her feet, and made an attempt to walk, with some vague intention of seeking the nearest hospital. A policeman seeing her unsteady gait, accosted her. To him she seemed "only a drunken woman. Nothing more, bless you!" Ye innocent young ladies, who may chance to read this page, ask your 'fast' brothers, your respectable papas. They will tell you, if they choose to tell you the truth, that this is one of the most common of sights every evening, in the streets of the capital of the world! The policeman accosted this seemingly drunken female, with that genial mixture of patronizing authority and satire, which characterizes the language of the guardians of the public peace, when in a good humour, towards fallen women. "Had a drop too much, eh, Sukey? Come, or I shall be obliged to take you to hold up, or the station-house." Miriam, too faint and dizzy to support herself without assistance, replied: "I am not intoxicated. I—” "No, no," said the man, laughing, "not intoxicated. Who said so? Only a little fresh; slightly overcome with the night air. Come, if you can't stand no better than that, I shall have to send for a stretcher." Miriam's head fell upon the man's shoulder. Her beautiful face was upturned, white and ghastly in the gas light, as she faintly murmured: แ O, save me! I have swallowed poison !" The man started, and looked closer. He was the same policeman who had ordered the cab to move on at the door of the opera-house, and he recognised Miriam. CHAPTER V. THE HOSPITAL. "Kiss me;-oh! thy lips are cold; SHELLEY. ALL was done which medical science and skill could suggest, to neutralize the effects of the strychnine which Miriam had swallowed. The stomach-pump was used, and the proper antidotes, emetics, decoctions of bark, and warm water, liberally applied, and with tolerable success, so far as counteracting the diréct agency of the poison was concerned. |