r. He will die if I don't crush her,
like the reptile she is. She comes here--and what does she do? Keeps him
prisoner under her own superintendence. Who gets his medicine? She gets
it. Who cooks his food? She cooks it. The doors are locked. I might be
a witness of what goes on; and I am kept out. The servants who ought to
wait on him are kept out. She can do what she likes with his medicine;
she can do what she likes with his food: she is infuriated with him for
deserting her, and promising to marry me. Give him back to my care; or,
dreadful as it is to denounce my own sister, I shall claim protection
from the magistrates."

I lost all fear of her: I stepped close up to the place at which she
was standing; I cried out: "Of what, in God's name, do you accuse your
sister?"

She answered: "I accuse her of poisoning Philip Dunboyne."

I ran out of the room; I rushed headlong down the stairs. The doctor
heard me, and came running into the hall. I caught hold of him like a
madwoman. "Euneece!" My breath was gone; I could only say: "Euneece!"

He dragged me into the dining-room. There was wine on the side-board,
which he had ordered medically for Philip. He forced me to drink some of
it. It ran through me like fire; it helped me to speak. "Now tell me,"
he said, "what has she done to Eunice?"

"She brings a horrible accusation against her," I answered.

"What is the accusation?" I told him.

He looked me through and through. "Take care!" he said. "No hysterics,
no exaggeration. You may lead to dreadful consequences if you are
not sure of yourself. If it's really true, say it again." I said it
again--quietly this time.

His face startled me; it was white with rage. He snatched his hat off
the hall table.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"My duty." He was out of the house before I could speak to him again.

Third Period _(concluded)._

_TROUBLES AND TRIUMPHS OF THE FAMILY, RELATED BY THE GOVERNOR._

CHAPTER LXII. THE SENTENCE PRONOUNCED.

MARTYRS to gout know, by sad experience, that they suffer under one of
the most capricious of maladies. An attack of this disease will shift,
in the most unaccountable manner, from one part of the body to another;
or, it will release the victim when there is every reason to fear that
it is about to strengthen its hold on him; or, having shown the fairest
promise of submitting to medical treatment, it will cruelly lay the
patient prostrate again in a state of rela