lest manner, and I, knowing he held the secret of
my life, was unable to resent it. I refused to see Rosanna, but told
Whyte I would agree to his terms, which were, first, a large sum of
money was to be paid to Rosanna, and, secondly, that he should marry my
daughter. I, at first, absolutely declined to sanction the latter
proposal, but as he threatened to publish the story, and that meant the
proclamation to the world of my daughter's illegitimacy, I at
last--agreed, and he began to pay his addresses to Madge. She, however,
refused to marry him, and told me she was engaged to Fitzgerald, so,
after a severe struggle with myself, I told Whyte that I would not
allow him to marry Madge, but would give him whatever sum he liked to
name. On the night he was murdered he came to see me, and showed me the
certificate of marriage between myself and Rosanna Moore. He refused to
take a sum of money, and said that unless I consented to his marriage
with Madge he would publish the whole affair. I implored him to give me
time to think, so he said he would give me two days, but no more, and
left the house, taking the marriage certificate with him. I was in
despair, and saw that the only way to save myself was to obtain
possession of the marriage certificate and deny everything. With this
idea in my mind I followed him up to town and saw him meet Moreland,
and drink with him. They went into the hotel in Russell Street, and
when Whyte came out, at half-past twelve, he was quite intoxicated. I
saw him go along to the Scotch Church, near the Bourke and Wills'
monument, and cling to the lamp-post at the corner. I thought I would
then be able to get the certificate from him, as he was so drunk, when
I saw a gentleman in a light coat--I did not know it was
Fitzgerald--come up to him and hail a cab for him. I saw there was
nothing more to be done at that time, so, in despair, went home and
waited for the next day, in fear lest he should carry out his
determination. Nothing, however, turned up, and I was beginning to
think that Whyte had abandoned his purpose, when I heard that he had
been murdered in the hansom cab. I was in great fear lest the marriage
certificate should be found on him, but nothing was said about it. This
I could not understand at all. I knew he had it on him, and I could
only conclude that the murderer, whoever he was, had taken it from the
body, and would sooner or later come to me to extort money, knowing
that I dare not