over to find out Fleta's abode, met me in the
coach, and he has tracked me here, and risked my life, by telling the
people that I was a tithe proctor."

"Your information is very important," replied Melchior. "You will find
some difficulty to prove all you say."

"Not the least," replied I, flushed with anger and with wine, "I have
proof positive. I have seen her mother, and I can identify the child by
the necklace which was on her neck when you stole her necklace!"

"Necklace!" cried Melchior.

"Yes, the necklace put into my hands by your own wife when we parted."

"Damn her!" replied Melchior.

"Do not damn her; damn yourself for your villainy, and its being brought
to light. Have I said enough, or shall I tell you more?"

"Pray tell me more."

"No, I will not, for I must commit others, and that will not do,"
replied I; for I felt I had already said too much.

"You have committed yourself, at all events," replied Melchior; "and now
I tell you, that until--never mind," and Melchior hastened away.

The door was again locked, and I was once more alone.

I had time to reflect upon my imprudence. The countenance of Melchior,
when he left me, was that of a demon. Something told me to prepare for
death; and I was not wrong. The next day Melchior came not, nor the
next: my provisions were all gone. I had nothing but a little wine and
water left. The idea struck me, that I was to die of starvation. Was
there no means of escape? None; I had no weapon, no tool, not even a
knife. I had expended all my candles. At last, it occurred to me,
that, although I was in a cellar, my voice might be heard, and I
resolved as a last effort, to attempt it. I went to the door of the
cellar, and shouted at the top of my lungs, "Murder--murder!" I shouted
again and again as loud as I could, until I was exhausted. As it
afterwards appeared, this plan did prevent my being starved to death,
for such was Melchior's villainous intention. About an hour afterwards,
I repeated my cries of "Murder--murder!" and they were heard by the
household, who stated to Melchior, that there was someone shouting
murder in the vaults below. That night, and all the next day, I
repeated my cries occasionally. I was now quite exhausted; I had been
nearly two days without food, and my wine and water had all been drunk.
I sat down with a parched mouth and heated brain, waiting till I could
sufficiently recover my voice to repeat my cries, when