“I led her down the hallway and into the dining-room. Then I released her wrist, and crossed over to the sideboard. I opened the sideboard drawer and took out a long, keen knife. I tried the point and the edge of the knife upon my thumb. “‘Are you—are you going to kill me, Ernest?’ I heard Veronika ask, very low. “‘Yes, I am going to kill you. Lead the way to your bed-chamber.’ “Veronika’s hand clutched convulsively at her breast. She said nothing. She moved slowly back into the hall and thence into her bedroom, I following. “‘Oh, for God’s sake, stop and think what you are doing,’ she cried out suddenly, turning and facing me at the threshold of her room. ‘Think, Ernest, that it is I, Veronika, whom you are going to kill. Think, oh my loved one, think how you will suffer if ever you come to and realize what you have done. Oh, is there no way for me to bring him to himself!’ “Presently she continued, ‘But tell me first what I have done.—Oh, I can not bear to die until I know that you don’t suspect me of having wronged you in any way. Oh, Ernest, oh, if you would only speak one word. Oh, my darling, do not kill me without speaking to me. Oh God, oh God! Oh, there, there, he is going to kill me; he will not speak to me. Oh, what have I done? Ernest, Ernest! Wake up—stop your arm—don’t strike me. Oh God, God, God!’ “After it was over I dried my hands upon my handkerchief, turned out the gas in the hall, locked the door on the outside, put the key into my pocket, and went away.” What remains for me to tell? The above is what Merivale read to me. The above is what I had written. Could I doubt its truth? I did not, I do not, at any rate. I am informed that a man once tried for murder and acquitted can not, as the lawyers put it, can not be placed in jeopardy again. But I am enough of a Jew to believe in eye for eye and tooth for tooth. I shall see to it that I do not escape that penalty which the law would have imposed upon me, had the facts I am now aware of come out at my trial. I shall see to it that the murderer of Veronika Pathzuol meets with the punishment which his crime demands. It has taken me a week to write out this account. I want the public to have it. No need to analyze the motives that prompt this wish. I shall confide the MS. to my friend Merivale with directions that it be printed. I do not think of any thing more that needs to be said. THE END.