THE RESCUE.
"Was I going to drown myself?" she asked, slowly, with a fancy that
she had been dreaming frightfully, and some one had wakened her.
"You were most gone; but I came in time, thank God! O Christie!
don't you know me?"
Ah! no fear of that; for with one bewildered look, one glad cry of
recognition, Christie found her friend again, and was gathered close
to Rachel's heart.
"My dear, my dear, what drove you to it? Tell me all, and let me
help you in your trouble, as you helped me in mine," she said, as
she tenderly laid the poor, white face upon her breast, and wrapped
her shawl about the trembling figure clinging to her with such
passionate delight.
"I have been ill; I worked too hard; I'm not myself to-night. I owe
money. People disappoint and worry me; and I was so worn out, and
weak, and wicked, I think I meant to take my life."
"No, dear; it was not you that meant to do it, but the weakness and
the trouble that bewildered you. Forget it all, and rest a little,
safe with me; then we'll talk again."
Rachel spoke soothingly, for Christie shivered and sighed as if her
own thoughts frightened her. For a moment they sat silent, while the
mist trailed its white shroud above them, as if death had paused to
beckon a tired child away, but, finding her so gently cradled on a
warm, human heart, had relented and passed on, leaving no waif but
the broken oar for the river to carry toward the sea.
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