to my friends, or say anything further on the
subject. I meditated upon the propriety of going to America, and had
nearly made up my mind to that step. Every day, the mysterious affair
became more and more disagreeable and painful to me. I gave up making
further inquiries, and even carefully avoided, for a time, associating
with any person or reading any newspaper. I gradually became easier, as
time, which brought no explanation to me, passed over; but the thought
still lay at the bottom of my heart, that I was a murderer.

I went one day to a merchant's counting-house, to take my passage for
America. The man looked at me attentively. I shook with fear, but he
soon relieved me by asking--"Why I intended to leave so good a country
for so bad a one?" I replied, that I could get no employment here. My
appearance had pleased him. He offered me a situation in his office. I
accepted it. I continued in Glasgow, happy and respected, for several
years, and, to all likelihood, was to have settled there for life. I was
on the point of marriage with a young woman, as I thought, every way
worthy of the love I had for her. Her parents were satisfied; the day of
our nuptials was fixed--the house was taken and furnished wherein we
were to reside, and everything prepared. In the delirium of love, I
thought myself the happiest of men, and even forgot the affair of the
murder.

It was on the Monday preceding our union--which was to take place
in her father's house on the Friday evening--that business of the utmost
importance called me to the town of Ayr. I took a hasty farewell of my
bride, and set off, resolved to be back upon the Thursday at farthest.
Early in the forenoon of Tuesday, I got everything arranged to my
satisfaction; but was too late for the first coach. To amuse myself
in the best manner I could, until the coach should set off again, I
wandered down to the harbour; and, while there, it was my misfortune to
meet an old acquaintance, Alexander Cameron, the son of a barber in the
Luckenbooths. Glad to see each other, we shook hands most cordially;
and, after chatting about "auld langsyne" until we were weary wandering
upon the pier, I proposed to adjourn to my inn. To this proposal he at
once acceded, on condition that I should go on board of his vessel
afterwards, when he would return the visit in the evening. To this I had
no objection to make. The time passed on until the dusk. We left the
inn; but, instead of proceeding