d she been a good woman--an earnest and faithful wife--she might have
made a new man of him, for he loved her with a passionate devotion that
was part of his hot-headed nature. But she was bad--as depraved as she
was fair--and brought his downward course to a tragical climax
frightfully soon.

"Before her marriage, this wretched girl had had a lover--discarded for
a more handsome and impetuous wooer. But she had known him longest, and,
perhaps, loved him best. At all events, he resumed his visits after
marriage, as if nothing had happened. The young husband, full of love
and confidence, suspected no wrong. He sanctioned the visits and was on
most friendly terms with the discarded suitor. For some months it went
on, this underhand and infamous intimacy, and the wronged husband saw
nothing. It was Furniss who first opened his eyes to the truth, and a
terrible scene ensued. The husband refused passionately to believe a
word against the truth and purity of the wife he loved, and called his
friend a liar and a slanderer.

"'Very well,' said Furniss, coolly, 'bluster as much as you please, dear
boy, and, when you are tired, go home. It is an hour earlier than you
generally return. He will hardly have left. If you find your pretty
little idol alone, and at her prayers, disbelieve me. If you find Mr.
Crosby enjoying a _tete-a-tete_ with her, then come back and apologize
for these hard names.'"

"He went off whistling, and the half-maddened husband sprang into a
passing stage and rode home. It was past ten, but he was generally at
the gambling-table each night until after one, and his wife had usually
retired ere his return. He went upstairs softly, taking off his boots,
and noiselessly opened the door. There sat his wife, and by her side,
talking earnestly, the discarded lover. He caught his last words as he
entered:

"'You know how I have loved--you know how I do love, a thousand times
better than he! Why should we not fly at once. It is only torture to
both to remain longer.'

"They were the last words the unfortunate man ever uttered. The gambler
had been drinking--let us hope the liquor and the jealous fury made him
for the time mad. There was the flash, the report of a pistol; Crosby,
his guilty wife's lover, uttered a wild yell, sprang up in the air, and
fell back shot through the heart."

There was another dead pause. Captain Danton's steady voice momentarily
failed, and Reginald Stanford sat in horrified silence.