The Tragedy of the Chain Pier | Page 6

I went up to the crowd--two or three boatmen stood leaning over
the rail.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"Matter, sir?" replied one; "there is matter enough. There must have
been murder, or something very much like it, done on that pier last
night."
"Murder?" I cried, with a beating heart; "do not use such a horrible
word."
"It is a horrible thing, sir, but it has been done," replied the boatman.

CHAPTER III.
Why the word "murder" struck me with such a horror I cannot tell. I
stood looking at the old boatman like one struck with dismay. I was on
the point of saying that it was quite impossible, for I had been on the
Chain Pier last night, and had seen nothing of the kind. Some prudent
impulse restrained me.
"I would not go so far as to say it was murder," interrupted a sturdy
boatman. "I have been about here a great many years, and I have seen

some queer things. I should hardly call this murder."
"It was a life taken away, whether you call it murder or not," said the
old man.
"May be; but I am not sure. I have seen many mad with misery, but
murder is a rare thing."
"What is it?" I asked.
"A child, sir--only a little child," said the sturdy boatman. "The body of
a little child found drowned off the pier here."
Now, why should I start and tremble and grow sick at heart? What had
it to do with me? I knew nothing of any murdered child, yet great drops
formed on my brow, and my very heart trembled.
"A little child found drowned," I repeated; "but how do you know it
was murdered? It may have fallen into the water."
"It was not old enough for that, sir," said the elder boatman; "it is but a
fair little mite--a baby girl; they say not more than three months old."
Ah! why did the beautiful, desperate face I had seen the night before
flash before my eyes then?
The boatman went on:
"It is plain to my eyes that it is a murder, although the child is but a
tender babe; all the greater murder for that; a bigger child might have
helped itself; this one could not."
"Tell me about it," I said.
Ah! if my heart would but stop beating, or if the beautiful, desperate
face would but fade from my memory.
"It was James Clayton who found it," continued the old man. "He was
at work in the jetty this morning when he caught sight of something

moving up and down with the waves. At first he thought it looked like
an old rag, and he took no notice of it; then something about it attracted
his attention more and more. He went nearer, and found that it was a
gray and black shawl, that had caught on some large hooks which had
been driven into the wooden pillars for some purpose or other--a
woman's shawl, sure as could be; some lady, he thought, had dropped it
over the pier, and it had caught on these hooks below the water. Jim
was pleased. He thought, if worth anything, he might get a trifle reward
for it; if not, he might take it home to his old mother.
"He took his boat to the spot, but, sir, to Jim's surprise, he found it was
not only a shawl, but a bundle. He thought he had found a treasure, and
hastened to get it quickly off the hooks. It had been caught more tightly
by accident than it could have been placed there by human hands. It
was tight on the hooks, and he had to tear the shawl to get it off. He lost
no time opening it, and there was a little, fair child, drowned and dead.
"It was not a pleasant sight, sir, on a bright morning, when the sunshine
was dancing over the waves. Jim said his heart turned quite faint when
he saw the little white body--such a fair little mite, sir, it was enough to
make the very angels weep! Some woman, sir--Heaven forbid that it
was the mother--some woman had dressed it in pretty white clothes. It
had a white gown, with lace, and a soft white woolen cap on the little
golden head. A sorry sight, sir--a sorry sight! Jim said that when he
thought of that little tender body swinging to and fro with the waves all
the night, he could not keep the tears from his eyes.
"It was meant to sink, you see, sir," continued the man, with rough
energy; "it was never meant to be caught. But the great God, He is
above all, and He knows the little one was not to