t poor Mary's end, in order that we may discover and
bring to justice the monster whose drunken blow was the death of her. I
shall know no ease of mind till her murderer is secured, and till I am
certain that he will be made to suffer for his crimes. I wanted to go
with Robert to the Mews, but he said it was best that he should carry
out the rest of the investigation alone, for my strength and resolution
had been too hardly taxed already. He said more words in praise of
me for what I have been able to do up to this time, which I am almost
ashamed to write down with my own pen. Besides, there is no need;
praise from his lips is one of the things that I can trust my memory to
preserve to the latest day of my life.

May 3d. Robert was very long last night before he came back to tell me
what he had done. He easily recognized the hunchback at the corner of
the Mews by my description of him; but he found it a hard matter, even
with the help of money, to overcome the cowardly wretch's distrust of
him as a stranger and a man. However, when this had been accomplished,
the main difficulty was conquered. The hunchback, excited by the promise
of more money, went at once to the Red Lion to inquire about the person
whom he had driven there in his cab. Robert followed him, and waited at
the corner of the street. The tidings brought by the cabman were of
the most unexpected kind. The murderer--I can write of him by no other
name--had fallen ill on the very night when he was driven to the Red
Lion, had taken to his bed there and then, and was still confined to
it at that very moment. His disease was of a kind that is brought on by
excessive drinking, and that affects the mind as well as the body. The
people at the public house call it the Horrors.

Hearing these things, Robert determined to see if he could not find out
something more for himself by going and inquiring at the public house,
in the character of one of the friends of the sick man in bed upstairs.
He made two important discoveries. First, he found out the name and
address of the doctor in attendance. Secondly, he entrapped the barman
into mentioning the murderous wretch by his name. This last discovery
adds an unspeakably fearful interest to the dreadful misfortune
of Mary's death. Noah Truscott, as she told me herself in the last
conversation I ever had with her, was the name of the man whose drunken
example ruined her father, and Noah Truscott is also the name of the
ma