d of. It is the last request of a dying man."

"It is granted," said Romaine, "there, upon that _escritoire_, are
writing materials. But make haste, for I am impatient to finish this
disagreeable business."

Anderson sat down, and began to write rapidly. I longed to rush out and
give the alarm, so that the impending tragedy might be averted; but I
feared that any movement on my part might result in the passage of a
bullet through my brain, and therefore I remained quiet, for which I am
sure, no sensible reader will blame me.

Poor Anderson! tears gushed from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks
while he was writing one of the letters, which, as I afterwards
ascertained, was addressed to a young lady to whom he was engaged to be
married. He wrote two letters, folded, sealed and directed them; these
he handed to me, saying--

"Have the kindness to deliver these letters to the persons to whom they
are addressed. Will you faithfully promise to do this?"

I promised, of course; he shook hands with me, and bade me farewell;
then, calmly turning towards Romaine, he announced his readiness to die.
Up to that moment, I had tried to persuade myself that Anderson's life
would be spared, thinking that Romaine must have had enough of blood
after slaying his wife in that barbarous manner. But I was doomed to be
terribly disappointed. Scarcely had Anderson muttered the words, "I am
ready to die," when Romaine pulled the trigger of the upraised pistol,
and the young merchant fell dead upon the floor, the bullet having
penetrated his brain.

"Now I am satisfied, for I have had my revenge," said the murderer,
coolly, as he wiped the perspiration from his pallid brow.

"Blood-thirsty villain!" exclaimed I, unable longer to restrain my
indignation--"you will swing upon the gallows for this night's work!"

"Not so," rejoined Romaine, calmly, "for I do not intend to survive this
wholesale butchery, and did not, from the first. I was determined that
Anderson should die, at all events. _He won the pistol_, for the coin
fell with the tail uppermost. Had he stooped to examine it, I would have
blown out his brains, just the same. But hark! the boarders and inmates
of the house have been aroused by the report of the pistol, and they are
hastening here. The gallows--no, no, I must avoid _that_! They shall not
take me alive. Now, may heaven have mercy upon my guilty soul!"

With these words the unhappy man seized the Bowie knife and plunge