nd Goodwin,
his wife, and Sarah Sullivan in the parlor, which he had scarcely
entered when Mr. Goodwin got up, and, approaching him in a state of
great alarm and excitement, exclaimed,--

"Good Heavens, Mr. Woodward! can this dreadful intelligence which we
have heard be true?"

"O, you have heard it, then," replied Woodward. "Alas! yes, it is too
true, and my unfortunate brother lies with life barely in him, but
without the slightest hope of recovery. As for myself I am in a state of
absolute distraction; and were it not that I possess the consciousness
of having done everything in my power as a friend and brother to
withdraw him from this unfortunate intrigue, I think I should become
fairly crazed. Miss Goodwin has for some time past been aware of my deep
anxiety upon this very subject, because I deemed it a solemn duty on my
part to let her know that ha had degraded himself by this low attachment
to such a girl, and was consequently utterly unworthy of her affection.
I could not see the innocence and purity imposed upon, nor her generous
confidence placed on an unworthy object. This, however, is not a time
to deal harshly by him. He will not be long with us, and is entitled
to nothing but our forbearance and sympathy. Poor fellow! he has paid a
heavy and a fatal penalty for his crime. Alas, my brother! cut down in
the very prime of life, when there was still time enough for reformation
and repentance! O, it is too much!"

He turned towards the window, and, putting his handkerchief to his eyes,
did the pathetic with a very good grace.

"But," said Mrs. Goodwin, "what were the exact circumstances under which
the deplorable act of vengeance was committed?"

"Alas! the usual thing, Mrs. Goodwin," replied Harry, attempting to
clear his throat; "they met last night between nine and ten o'clock,
in a clump of alders, near the well from which the inhabitants of the
adjoining hamlet fetch their water. The outlaw, Shawn-na-Middogue,
a rejected lover of the girl's, stung with jealousy and vengeance,
surprised them, and stabbed my unfortunate brother, I fear, to death."

"And do you think there is no hope?" she added, with tears in her eyes;
"O, if he had only time for repentance!"

"Alas! madam, the medical man who has seen him scarcely holds out any
hope; but, as you say, if he had time even to repent, there would be
much consolation in that."

"Well," observed Goodwin, his eyes moist with tears, "after this day,
I sh