That was something in his favour. His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. At this moment, Blueskin appeared with the lamp, and revealed a horrible spectacle,—the floor deluged with blood,—various articles of furniture upset,—papers scattered about,—the murdered man's cloak, trampled upon, and smeared with gore,—his hat, crushed and similarly stained,—his sword,—the ensanguined cloth,—with several other ghastly evidences of the slaughterous deed. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. “Have you not missed me?” He inquired. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. “Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling. With the aid of a penknife he ripped the shoulder seams and drew out the ten one-thousand dollar bills.
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