istance of a few feet before
him, on the floor. A second glance was sufficient to inform me of what
nature this object was. It was the body of a man, bleeding, ghastly, and
still exhibiting the marks of convulsion and agony!

I shall omit to describe the shock which a spectacle like this
communicated to my unpractised senses. I was nearly as panic-struck and
powerless as Welbeck himself. I gazed, without power of speech, at one
time, at Welbeck; then I fixed terrified eyes on the distorted features
of the dead. At length, Welbeck, recovering from his reverie, looked up,
as if to see who it was that had entered. No surprise, no alarm, was
betrayed by him on seeing me. He manifested no desire or intention to
interrupt the fearful silence.

My thoughts wandered in confusion and terror. The first impulse was to
fly from the scene; but I could not be long insensible to the exigences
of the moment. I saw that affairs must not be suffered to remain in
their present situation. The insensibility or despair of Welbeck
required consolation and succour. How to communicate my thoughts, or
offer my assistance, I knew not. What led to this murderous catastrophe;
who it was whose breathless corpse was before me; what concern Welbeck
had in producing his death; were as yet unknown.

At length he rose from his seat, and strode at first with faltering, and
then with more steadfast steps, across the floor. This motion seemed to
put him in possession of himself. He seemed now, for the first time, to
recognise my presence. He turned to me, and said, in a tone of
severity,--

"How now? What brings you here?"

This rebuke was unexpected. I stammered out, in reply, that the report
of the pistol had alarmed me, and that I came to discover the cause of
it.

He noticed not my answer, but resumed his perturbed steps, and his
anxious but abstracted looks. Suddenly he checked himself, and, glancing
a furious eye at the corpse, he muttered, "Yes, the die is cast. This
worthless and miserable scene shall last no longer. I will at once get
rid of life and all its humiliations."

Here succeeded a new pause. The course of his thoughts seemed now to
become once more tranquil. Sadness, rather than fury, overspread his
features; and his accent, when he spoke to me, was not faltering, but
solemn.

"Mervyn," said he, "you comprehend not this scene. Your youth and
inexperience make you a stranger to a deceitful and flagitious world.
You know me not.