"' Will no one come!' she wailed, seeming to look past me with eyes blind with grief. 'O God--dear God! will no one ever come?' Then, as her face fell again over the burden on her lap, she moaned like an animal in mortal agony. But above the moan I could still hear that curious gasping sigh. 'Can I not help?' I asked. She gave no reply, so I went up and stood beside her. Still she seemed unconscious of my presence, for once more came the wail. 'Will nobody come? O my God! will nobody come to help?' 'I have come,' I answered, touching her on the arm. She looked at me then, and a curious thrill made me feel quite dizzy for a moment. Perhaps that was the reason why both face and voice seemed to me changed and altered. Her eyes met mine doubtfully. "'You did not come before,' she said. 'No one ever came--no one, no one.' "As I removed my hand she bent once more over her burden with the same piteous moan. "Evidently she was stupefied by horror and suspense, so I gently raised her shawl to see what was the matter. "Great heavens! What a sight! After all these years I seem to see it now. Fair silky curls dabbled in blood that welled up from under the handkerchief which the woman held convulsively to the little white breast. One chubby hand thrown out stiff and clenched; great brown eyes glazed and dim; grey lips where each gasping sigh sent a tinge of red. "'Dot!' I exclaimed, dropping on my knees the better to assure myself of the awful truth. "The familiar name seemed to rouse the wavering life. "'_Dots not af'aid. Dot--only--wanted to make--a puff-puff-boom_.' "The words seemed to float in the air. I heard them as in a dream; and as in a dream also came an insight into what had happened. Dada's revolver within reach of those tiny hands. O Dot! poor little brave Dot! I felt helpless before the awful tragedy. Once I tried to take the child, but the woman resisted silently, nor could I get her to listen to my entreaties that she should at least move to an easier position. At last, seeing I could do nothing, and acknowledging sorrowfully that nothing I could do was likely to be of any avail, I contented myself with waiting beside her in silence, until the end. And as I waited a coherent story grew out of what I knew, and what I guessed. They had come on early that morning, the father on his way further afield, the mother and child to remain in the little bungalow till his return. Then all in a minute the accident; and then the only servant had been sent forth wildly for help whilst the wretched woman waited alone. Yes! that must have been it. So clear, so simple, so awful in its very simplicity. "There was not a sound in the house save at intervals the woman's moan. 'Will no one ever come! O God; will no one ever come!' and always distinct above it the child's gasping sigh with a soft rattle in it.