he print of our shoes in the wet gravel; and in the
loose soil around the newly dug grave. On Annie was found a note from
Ackermann appointing a meeting with her on that evening when she had so
mysteriously disappeared.

Ackermann was arrested and brought to trial. When he learned the nature
of the evidence against him it seemed to fill him with a superstitious
horror, which drew from him a full confession of his guilt, although, at
first, he protested his innocence. He gave in his confession, and met
his ignominious death with the same bold front and reckless daring he
had manifested during all his life.

It only remains to tell how Ackermann was led to murder a woman he
loved--for he certainly loved Annie. It seems that Annie, in her light,
trifling way, had seriously wounded him by flirting with one of her
former suitors. He remonstrated, but his evident distress only urged the
giddy girl to further trials of her power. And she had an object in
arousing his jealousy, for she too was jealous of Miriam's ring. He
persisted in wearing it, notwithstanding her entreaties, and she feared
some lingering affection for the giver gave rise to the reluctance to
part with the gift. On the night of the murder, high words had passed
between them in regard to it. In the heat of the discussion, Annie had
managed dexterously to slip the ring off his finger. He struggled to
regain it. She threw it away. The quarrel now grew more violent, until
at last, in his rage, and as unconscious of what he was doing as an
intoxicated man, he struck the fatal blow, and Annie fell dead at his
feet. In the midst of his horror and remorse--for even he was filled
with horror at such a deed--he thought of himself, and provided for his
safety by hiding the body among the thorny and poisonous bushes, knowing
it would be more unlikely to be found there than if he threw it into the
river, or dug a grave for it. Creeping carefully in and out among the
thick, thorny bushes, so as to disarrange them as little as possible, he
first deposited his dead burden, and then returned to the place of the
last fatal struggle, that he might look for the lost ring.

The moon had risen, and he could see every object with great
distinctness. He looked carefully along the ground, pushing aside the
weeds, and removing every stone under which it might have rolled. After
a few minutes' search he became conscious that some one else was looking
for the ring! He was angry with h