er provocation and at less dangerous risk. But, if I
escape and a true bill should be found against Arthur, then will I follow
my better instinct, and reveal what I have hitherto kept concealed, even
if the torment of the betrayal drive me to self-destruction afterwards.
For I no longer cherished the smallest doubt, that to Carmel's sudden
rage and to that alone, the death of Adelaide was due.

My reason for this change from troubled to absolute conviction can be
easily explained. It dated from the inquest, and will best appear in the
relation of an interview I held with my attorney, Charles Clifton, very
soon after my second incarceration.

We had discussed the situation till there seemed to be nothing left to
discuss. I understood him, and he thought he understood me. He believed
Arthur guilty, and credited me with the same convictions. Thus only could
he explain my inconceivable reticence on certain points he was very well
assured I could make clear if I would. That he was not the only man who
had drawn these same conclusions from my attitude both before and during
the inquest, troubled me greatly and deeply disturbed my conscience, but
I could indulge in no protests--or, rather would indulge in no
protests--as yet. There was an unsolved doubt connected with some facts
which had come out at the inquest--or perhaps, I should call it a
circumstance not as yet fully explained--which disturbed me more than did
my conscience, and upon this circumstance I must have light before I let
my counsel leave me.

I introduced the topic thus:

"You remember the detached sentences taken down by the nurse during the
period of Carmel's unconsciousness. They were regarded as senseless
ravings, and such they doubtless were; but there was one of them which
attracted my attention, and of which I should like an explanation. I wish
I had that woman's little book here; I should like to read for myself
those wandering utterances."

"You can," was the unexpected and welcome reply. "I took them all down in
shorthand as they fell from Dr. Perry's lips. I have not had time since
to transcribe them, but I can read some of them to you, if you will give
me an idea as to which ones you want."

"Read the first--what she said on the day of the funeral. I do not think
the rest matter very much."

Clifton took a paper from his pocket, and, after only a short delay, read
out these words:

"_December the fifth_: Her sister's name, uttered many tim