sooner
than die _that_ death, I would end my misery in the dark waters of this
river, which flows so calmly beneath my feet!'

She heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and saw two men advancing
on the opposite foot-path of the bridge. She crouched down to avoid
observation; and as they passed, she distinctly heard their
conversation.

'Have you heard,' said one, 'of the case of murder in ---- street?'

'No; how was it?' demanded the other.

'Why, a rich old fellow named Hedge was found this evening in his
chamber, stone dead, having been poisoned by his wife, who they say is a
young and handsome woman. It is supposed she did it on account of a
lover, or some such thing; and since the murder, she has
disappeared--but the police are on her track, and they won't be long in
finding her. 'Twill be a bad job for her.'

The men passed on out of sight and hearing; but the words struck terror
to the heart of Julia. She started up and gazed wildly around her,
expecting every moment to see the myrmidons of the law approaching, to
drag her away to prison. Then she looked down upon the calm river, on
whose placid breast reposed the soft moonlight.

'Why should I live?' she murmured, sadly--'earth has no longer any
charms for me; the past brings remorse, the present is most wretched,
the future full of impending horror! Death is my only refuge; the only
cure for all my sorrows. Take me to thy embrace, thou peaceful river;
thou canst end my earthly woes, but thou canst not wash off the stains
of guilt from my soul! There may be a hell, but its torments cannot
exceed those of this world--'

She mounted upon the topmost rail of the bridge, clasped her hands,
muttered a brief prayer, and leaped into the river. There was a
splash--a gurgling sound--and then profound and solemn silence resumed
its reign.

* * * * *

One more unfortunate,
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death!

* * * * *

The bleak wind of March
Made her tremble and shiver;
But not the dark arch
Of the black flowing river;
Mad from life's history,
Glad to death's mystery,
Swift to be hurl'd--
Any where, any where
Out of the world!

In she plunged boldly,
No matter how coldly
The rough river ran--
Over the brink of it,
Picture it--think of it, Dissolute Man!

* * * * *

Owni