futurity?--with a
steady, self-forgetful gaze which seemed to make a man of him again. Then
he went on with his task with the grimness of one who takes his last step
into ignominy.

We will follow his words as he writes, leaving them for the others to
read on their completion.

"I, Carleton Roberts, in face of an inquiry which is about to be held
on the death of her who called herself Angeline Willetts, but whose
real name is as I have since been told Angeline Duclos, wish to make
this statement in connection with the same.

"It was at my hand she died. I strung the bow and let fly the arrow
which killed this unfortunate child. Not with the intention of finding
my mark in her innocent bosom. She simply got in the way of the woman
for whom it was intended--if I really was governed by intent, of which
I here declare before God I am by no means sure.

"The child was a stranger to me, but the woman in whose stead she
inadvertently perished I had known long and well. My wrongs to her had
been great, but she had kept silence during my whole married life and
in my blind confidence in the exemption this seemed to afford me, I put
no curb upon my ambition which had already carried me far beyond my
deserts. Those who read these lines may know how majestic were my
hopes, how imminent the honor, to attain which I have employed my best
energies for years. Life was bright, the future dazzling. Though I had
neither wife nor child, the promise of activity on the lines which
appeal to every man of political instinct gave me all I seemed to need
in the way of compensation. I was happy, arrogantly so, perhaps, when
without warning the woman I had not seen in years, who,--if I thought
of her at all, I honestly believed to be dead--wrote me a letter
recalling her claims and proposing a speedy interview, with a view to
their immediate settlement. Though couched in courteous terms, the
whole letter was instinct with a confidence which staggered me. She
meant to reenter my life, and if I knew her, openly. Nothing short of
bearing my name and being introduced to the world as my wife would
satisfy her; and this not only threatened a scandal destructive of my
hopes, but involved the breaking of a fresh matrimonial engagement into
which I had lately entered with more ardor I fear than judgment. What
was I to do? Let her have her way--this woman I had not seen in fifteen
years,--w