ter of her husband's self-condemnation
was too overwhelming in its nature for her to recover readily from her
emotions.

"I have long dreaded this," she acknowledged. "For months I have
foreseen that he would make some rash communication or insane avowal.
If I had dared, I would have consulted some physician about this
hallucination of his; but he was so sane on other points that I
hesitated to give my dreadful secret to the world. I kept hoping that
time and his daily pursuits would have their effect and restore him to
himself. But his illusion grows, and now I fear that nothing will
ever convince him that he did not commit the deed of which he accuses
himself. If he were not blind I would have more hope, but the blind have
so much time for brooding."

"I think he had better be indulged in his fancies for the present," I
ventured. "If he is labouring under an illusion it might be dangerous to
cross him."

"If?" she echoed in an indescribable tone of amazement and dread. "Can
you for a moment harbour the idea that he has spoken the truth?"

"Madam," I returned, with something of the cynicism of my calling, "what
caused you to give such an unearthly scream just before this murder was
made known to the neighbourhood?"

She stared, paled, and finally began to tremble, not, as I now believe,
at the insinuation latent in my words, but at the doubts which my
question aroused in her own breast.

"Did I?" she asked; then with a burst of candour which seemed
inseparable from her nature, she continued: "Why do I try to mislead you
or deceive myself? I did give a shriek just before the alarm was raised
next door; but it was not from any knowledge I had of a crime having
been committed, but because I unexpectedly saw before me my husband whom
I supposed to be on his way to Poughkeepsie. He was looking very pale
and strange, and for a moment I thought I stood face to face with his
ghost. But he soon explained his appearance by saying that he had
fallen from the train and had only been saved by a miracle from being
dismembered; and I was just bemoaning his mishap and trying to calm him
and myself, when that terrible shout was heard next door of 'Murder!
murder!' Coming so soon after the shock he had himself experienced, it
quite unnerved him, and I think we can date his mental disturbance from
that moment. For he began immediately to take a morbid interest in the
affair next door, though it was weeks, if not months, before he