On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. “One would think I had said nothing about the matter. . I saw their boat swept away, and heard the roar of the fall beneath the bridge; and no one, who was present, could doubt the result. At a turn in the road, he perceived Winifred looking anxiously towards him, and when she discovered him, she waved her hand. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered.
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