Mary, at
her lover's express desire, quitted her mistress's family to reside
with a widow, a distant relative of his own, from whose house she was
to be married. Delightful to the young people was this short period of
leisure and uninterrupted intercourse, for the gold mania was now
beginning to tell upon the excited imaginations of all, and Henry had
already thrown up his situation; and it was settled their wedding trip
should be to the golden gullies round Mount Buninyong.
And now let me hasten over this portion of my narrative. It is sad to
dwell upon the history of human frailty, or to relate the oft-told tale
of passion and villainy triumphant over virtue. A few days before
Christmas, when the marriage ceremony was to be performed, they
unfortunately spent one evening together alone, and he left her - ruined.
Repentance followed sin, and the intervening time was passed by Mary in
a state of the greatest mental anguish. With what trembling eagerness
did she now look forward to the day which should make her his lawful
wife.
It arrived. Mary and the friends of both stood beside the altar, whilst
he, who should have been there to redeem his pledge and save his victim
from open ruin and disgrace, was far away on the road to Ballarat.
To describe her agony would be impossible. Day after day, week after
week, and no tidings from him came; conscience too acutely accounting
to her for his faithlessness. Then the horrible truth forced itself
upon her, that its consequences would soon too plainly declare her sin
before the world; that upon her innocent offspring would fall a portion
of its mother's shame.
Thus six months stole sorrowfully away, and as yet none had even
conjectured the deep cause she had for misery. Her brother's
non-arrival was also an unceasing source of anxiety, and almost daily
might she have been seen at the Melbourne Post-office, each time to
return more disappointed than before. At length the oft-repeated
inquiry was answered in the affirmative, and eagerly she tore open the
long-anticipated letter. It told her of an unexpected sum of money that
had come into his hands - to them a small fortune - which had detained him
in Ireland. This was read and almost immediately forgotten, as she
learnt that he was arrived in Melbourne, and that only a few streets
now separated them.
She raised her face, flushed and radiant with joyful excitement - her
eyes fell upon him who had so cruelly injured her. The scream that
burst from her lips brought him involuntarily to her side. What will
not a woman forgive where once her heart has been touched - in the double
joy of the moment the past was almost forgotten - together they re-read
the welcome letter, and again he wooed her for his bride. She
consented, and he himself led her to her brother, confessed
their mutual fault, and second preparations for an immediate marriage
were hurriedly made.
Once more at the altar of St. Peter's stood the bridal party, and again
at the appointed hour Stephens was far gone on his second expedition to
the diggings, after having increased (if that was possible) his
previous villainy, by borrowing a large portion of the money before
mentioned from his intended brother-in-law. It was pretty evident that
the prospect of doing this had influenced him in his apparently
honourable desire to atone to the poor girl, who, completely prostrated
by this second blow, was laid on the bed of sickness.
For some weeks she continued thus and her own sufferings were increased
by he sight of her brother's fury, as, on her partial recovery, he
quitted her in search of her seducer.
During his absence Mary became a mother, and the little one that
nestled in her bosom, made her half forgetful of her sorrows, and at
times ready to embrace the delusive hope that some slight happiness in
life was in store for her. But her bitter cup was not yet drained. Day
by day, hour by hour, her little one pined away, until one
dreary night she held within her arms only its tiny corpse.
Not one sound of grief - not an outward sign to show how deeply the heart
was touched - escaped her. The busy neighbours left her for awhile, glad
though amazed at her wondrous calmness; when they returned to finish
their preparations for committing the child to its last resting-place,
the mother and her infant had disappeared.
Carrying the lifeless burden closely pressed against her bosom, as
though the pelting rain and chilling air could harm it now, Mary
rapidly left the town where she had experienced so much misery,
on - on - towards Geelong, the route her seducer and his pursuer had
taken - on - across Iett's Flat, until at length, weak and exhausted, she
sank down on the barren plains beyond.
Next morning the early dawn found her still plodding her weary way - her
only refreshment being a dry crust and some water obtained at an
halting-house on the road; and many a passer-by, attracted by the
wildness of her eyes, her eager manner, and disordered dress, cast
after her a curious wondering look. But she heeded them
not - on - on she pursued her course towards the Broken River.
Here she paused. The heavy winter rains had swollen the waters, which
swept along, dashing over the irregular pieces of rock that formed the
only means of crossing over. But danger was as nothing to her now - the
first few steps were taken - the rapid stream was rushing wildly round
her - a sensation, of giddiness and exhaustion made her limbs tremble - her
footing slipped on the wet and slimy stone - in another moment the
ruthless waters carried her away.
