she would never consider herself as his wife. In reply to the first he
said:

"I love you quite as well as Purcel, and you must make up your mind to
fulfill the vows you have this night uttered." And to her threat to
appeal to the captain and passengers, and state the diabolical deception
he had practiced, he replied:

"I have provided for every contingency, madam. The captain believes you
to be my insane wife, whom I am taking to New York on a visit to your
parents, in the hope that the sight of your native home may benefit your
mind. I have already anticipated your story, and represented it as the
vagary of a disordered intellect. My arrangements are all made, and you
leave this state-room no more until we reach New York. Withdraw your
affections as speedily as possible from Purcel, and centre them on your
lawful husband, or it may be worse for you."

Fancy the torture of such a situation to a high-principled and sensitive
girl! Reardon was true to his word, and her story was listened to
incredulously by the maid, the only person beside himself who was
allowed access to her during the voyage. By the time they reached New
York her spirit was completely broken, and her health in an alarming
state of decay. This enraged Reardon, and he brutally reproached her
with grieving over my loss. Indeed, I believe he sometimes proceeded
beyond reproaches toward his helpless and now uncomplaining victim. She
bore it all in silence, for she felt that death would soon release her
from the sufferings she endured.

On their arrival in this city Reardon procured a house, and set his
servant as a spy on her during his absence from home. Alice made an
attempt to escape from his power, determined to throw herself on the
protection of the first person she met who looked as if he might give
credence to her story. The servant followed and brought her back to her
prison, and when Reardon returned, his anger knew no bounds. Then I know
he struck her, for she fell with violence against the sharp corner of a
table; and that blow upon her breast hastened the doom that was already
impending over her.

To die with him was horrible, and she next found means, through the
agency of an intelligent child, who sometimes played beneath her window
to send to one of the city papers a letter containing an advertisement
addressed to her unknown uncle. She knew that Reardon never read any
thing, and equally well, that there was little danger of being
di