The Tragedy of the Chain Pier | Page 5

upper lip, a full, lovely under one, and a
perfectly modeled chin. But it was the face of a woman almost mad
with despair.
"Oh, Heaven! if I dare--if I dare!" she cried. She flung up her hands
with the gesture of one who has no hope; she looked over at the sea,
once more at the pier, then slowly turned away, and again quite plainly
I heard the words, "Oh, Heaven! if I dare--if I dare!"
She then walked slowly away, and I lost sight of her under the silent
arches; but I could not forget her. What a face!--what beauty, what
passion, what pain, what love and despair, what goodness and power!
What a face! When should I ever forget it?
Impelled by curiosity, I went to the railings, and I stood where she
stood. I looked down. How deep and fathomless it seemed, this running
sea! What was it she had dropped there? In my mind's eye I saw a most
pathetic little bundle made of love-letters; I pictured them tied with a
pretty faded ribbon; there would be dried flowers, each one a momento
of some happy occasion. I could fancy the dried roses, the withered
forget-me-nots, the violets, with some faint odor lingering still around
them. Then there would be a valentine, perhaps two or three; a
photograph, and probably an engagement ring. She had flung them
away into the depths of the sea, and only Heaven knows what hopes
and love she had flung with them! I could understand now what that
cry meant--"If I dare--if I dare!"

It meant that if she dare she would fling herself into the sea after them!
How many hopes had been flung, like hers, into those black depths!
Then I came to the conclusion that I was, to say the least of it, a
simpleton to waste so much time and thought about another person's
affairs.
I remember that, as I walked slowly down the pier, I met several people,
and that I felt a glow of pleasure at the thought that some people had
the good sense to prefer the Chain Pier. And then I went home.
A game at billiards, a long chat in the smoke-room, ought to have
distracted my mind from the little incident I had witnessed, but it did
not. My bed-room faced the sea, and I drew up the blind so that I might
look at it once more. The beautiful sea has many weird aspects, none
stranger than when it lies heaving sullenly under the light of the moon.
Fascinated, charmed, I stood to watch it. The moon had changed her
mind; she meant to shine now; the clouds had all vanished; the sky was
dark and blue; the stars were shining; but the wind had quickened, and
the waves rolled in briskly, with white, silvery foam marking their
progress.
The Chain Pier stood out quite clear and distinct in the moonlight; very
fair and shapely it looked. Then I went to sleep and dreamed of the
white, beautiful, desperate face--of the woman who had, I believed,
thrown her love-letters into the sea. The wind grew rougher and the sea
grew angry during the night; when at times I woke from my sleep I
could hear them. Ah! long before this the love-letters had been
destroyed--had been torn by the swift waves; the faded flowers and all
the pretty love-tokens were done to death in the brisk waters. I
wondered if, in thought, that beautiful, desperate woman would go
back to that spot on the Chain Pier.
The morning following dawned bright and calm; there was a golden
sunlight and a blue sea; why the color of the water should change so
greatly, I could not think, but change it did. I have seen it clear as an
emerald, and I have seen it blue as the lakes and seas of Italy. This
morning it wore a blue dress, and a thousand, brilliants danced on its

broad, sweet bosom. Already there were a number of people on the
promenade; both piers looked beautiful, and were full of life and
activity. It must have been some kind of holiday, although I forget for
what the flags were flying, and there was a holiday look about the town.
I thought I would walk for ten minutes before my breakfast. I went
toward the Chain Pier, drawn by the irresistible attraction of the face I
had seen there last evening.
It struck me that there was an unusual number of people about the
Chain Pier; quite a crowd had collected at the gate. People were talking
to each other in an excited fashion. I saw one or two policemen, and I
came to the conclusion that some accident or other had happened on the
pier.