'Frederick,' said his wife, mildly--'I have but a few dollars, and you are welcome to them. I leave this house to-night; I am going to live hereafter a life of honesty and virtue.' 'Indeed!' exclaimed Archer, now observing for the first time the preparations for removal--'and may I ask where the devil you're going?' 'I do not wish to tell you, Frederick,' replied the lady--'I shall have a good and comfortable home; let that suffice. I will always pray for your welfare; but we must part forever.' 'Ha! is it so?' he hissed from between his clenched teeth, while the hot blood of anger mantled on his face, and his eyes were lit up with the fires of demoniac passions--'do you think to desert me and cast me off forever?'--As he spoke, his right hand was thrust into the breast of his coat. 'We must part; my resolution is fixed,' she replied firmly. 'Your treatment of me--' She paused in affright, for her husband had seized her violently by the arm; then he plucked the gleaming Bowie knife from its sheath, and ere she could scream out, the murderous blade was buried in her heart! From his place of concealment behind the curtains of the bed, Frank saw the atrocious deed perpetrated. The villain had struck the fatal blow ere he could rush forth and stay his murderous arm. The poor victim sank upon the floor, the lifeblood streaming from her heart.--Ere the horrified witness of the crime could seize the murderer, he had fled from the house with a celerity which defied pursuit. Frank, overwhelmed with grief at the tragic fate of that erring but unfortunate woman, raised her body in his arms and placed it upon a sofa. He then drew from her bosom the reeking blade of the assassin, and as he did so, the warm blood spouted afresh from the gaping wound, staining his hands and garments with gore. He bent over the corpse, and contemplated the pallid features with profound sorrow. As he thus gazed mournfully at the face of the dead, holding in his hand the blood-stained knife, the chamber door opened, and the landlady entered the room. On beholding the awful scene--the bleeding, lifeless form stretched upon the sofa, and the young man standing with a gory knife grasped in his hand--the landlady made the house resound with her shrieks and cries of 'Murder!' The street door below was forced open and men with hurried footsteps ascended the stairs--in a moment more the chamber was filled with watchmen and citizens. 'Seize the murderer!' exclaimed the landlady, pointing towards Frank. Two watchmen instantly grasped him by the arms, and took from him the bloody knife. Frank turned deadly pale--he was speechless--his tongue refused its office, for then the dreadful conviction forced itself upon him, that he was regarded as the murderer of that young woman. And how could he prove his innocence? The weight of circumstantial evidence against him was tremendous and might produce his conviction and condemnation to an ignominious death!