his enemy made, his garments red with
blood, his face pale with the death agony, distorted with baffled rage
and hate. "I believe nothing you say--you cannot move me."

"So be it," said the man. "These fellows have tied my hands--put yours
in my coat pocket--you'll find three letters, a paper and a roll of
money."

Mellen obeyed, shuddering to feel the blood drops warm on his fingers as
he drew forth the package.

"Read them," said Ford, briefly.

Mellen opened one after another of the epistles and read--they were in
Elsie's writing--they proved the truth of the villain's assertions. The
smaller paper was a marriage certificate. The roll of bills--each note
for a thousand dollars--was the price of Elizabeth's bonds.

Mellen staggered back with one heartbroken cry.

"I have touched you," exclaimed the man! "There lies your precious
sister in a dead faint--here I am, dying, a criminal, but your
brother-in-law none the less--stoop down, I want to whisper something."

Mellen bent his head, for his enemy was dying.

"It is a fair certificate you see, but I was a married man all the
time."

As Ford whispered these words a fiendish smile covered the lips on which
death was scattering ashes.

Mellen started forward with a wild impulse to choke the ebbing life from
his lips, but they whispered hoarsely:

"You can't fight a dying man--you'll only put me out of this cursed pain
if you choke me."

Mellen stood transfixed.

"I'll tell you the story," continued Ford; "novels always have dying
confessions in them--hear mine. I tell you because it is too late to
remedy what you have done--your wife is gone--I'm glad of it. She was
ten thousand times too good for any of you. She's dead, I dare say; just
the woman to do it, without a word, and all for that little heap of
froth."

Mellen could not speak; he felt about blindly for support, and sank into
a chair.

"I always hated you," Ford went on, and the hatred of a life burned in
his voice and convulsed his face. "When we were boys together, I swore
to pay you off for getting that old man's money away from me, his
rightful heir. That was bad enough, but your insolent kindness, your
infernal, condescending generosity, was ten times worse. Mighty willing,
you were, to dole out money that was more mine than yours, and claim
gratitude for it. But I had a little revenge at the time, remember. I
took away the woman you loved--I cheated you out of money--that was
somethin