The Devil's GardenMaxwell, W. B. (William Babington)
General
The Devil's Garden
Maxwell, W. B. (William Babington)
Fiction
The suicide of Mr. Bates had a great effect on Dale. The sadness and
regret that he felt at the time continued to tinge his thoughts for a
long while afterward. He could not shake off the horror of that
midnight scene, as he imagined it--the God-fearing man breaking the
divine laws, the man full of years who was so near the grave and yet
could not wait till it received him naturally, the poor feeble old
creature taxing all his remnant of strength to knock out the small
spark of life that already had begun to gleam so dimly. How long did
he take to drag and raise the ladder, pausing to recover breath,
holding his side and coughing, then again toiling?
Another thing that depressed Dale's spirits was the departure of Mr.
Osborn, who had gone to the Midlands to take up the ministry of a
large church in a large town. And never had Dale more felt the want of
priestly support than at this period. The new pastor was a young man
who preached eloquently, but Dale would not be able to talk to him as
he had talked to Osborn.
Mavis observed again what she had not seen for ages, the gloom on her
husband's face when he sat alone, or thought that he was alone. The
dull brooding look that spoiled his aspect at such times was like the
shadow of a dark cloud on a field; but as in the past the shadow went
rapidly, and she fancied she could chase it away as surely as if she
had been the sunshine. She would have been startled and pained if she
could have seen his face now, as he rode from Manninglea after
luncheon at the club.
It was a wet spring day, with dark clouds hanging low over the heath,
a cold wind cheeping, soughing, sighing; and Dale's face was darker
and sadder than the day. Before mounting his horse in the hotel yard
at Manninglea he had gone to the station and bought _The Times_
newspaper; now he drew the paper out of his pocket, and sheltering it
with his rain cloak, read an advertisement on the front page.
The advertisement told him that a London hospital gratefully
acknowledged the receipt of one hundred pounds, being the twenty-first
donation from the same hand, and making two thousand and twenty pounds
as the total received to date. In accordance with the request of their
anonymous benefactor, they inserted this notice, and they offered at
the same time their heartfelt thanks.
Dale tore out the advertisement and threw away the rest of the paper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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