Strange and cruel destiny! When everything depended upon my firmness, I was overwhelmed by feebleness. It seemed as if I had not before believed that this terrible moment of confirmation would come. And yet, if anybody could have been prepared for such a discovery, I should have been. I had brooded over it for months. A thousand times had my imagination pictured it to me in the most vivid and fearful aspect. I fancied that I should have been steeled by conviction against every other feeling but that of vengeance. But in reality, my hope was so sanguine, my love for Julia so fervent, I did not, amidst all my fears, really believe that such a thing could ever prove true. All my boasted planning and preparation, and espionage, had only deceived myself. I believed, at worst, that Julia might be brought to love William Edgerton,--but that he would presume to give utterance to his love, and that she would submit to listen, was not truly within my belief. I had not been prepared for this, however much, in my last interview with Kingsley, I had professed myself to be. But had she submitted? That was still a question. I had seen nothing beyond what I have stated. His audacious hand had rested upon hers--his impious arm had encircled her waist, and then my blindness and darkness followed. I was struck as completely senseless, and fell from the tree with as little seeming life, as if a sudden bullet had traversed my heart. In this state I lay. How long I know not--it must have been for several hours. I was brought to consciousness by a sense of cold. I was benumbed--a steady rain was falling, and from the condition of my clothes, which were completely saturated, must have been falling for some time previous. I rose with pain and difficulty to my feet. I was still as one stunned and stupified, by one of those extremes of suffering for which the overcharged heart can find no sufficient or sufficiently rapid method of relief. When I rose, the light was no longer in the parlor. The parties were withdrawn. Horrible thought! That I should have failed at that trying moment. I knew everything--I knew nothing. It was still possible that Julia had repulsed him. I had seen HIS audacity only--was it followed by HER guilt? How shall that be known? I could answer this question as Kingsley would have answered it. “If your wife be honest, she must now reveal the truth. She can no longer forbear. The proceeding of Edgerton has been too decided, and she shares his guilt if she longer keeps it secret. The wife who submits to this form of insult, without seeking protection where alone it may be found, clearly shows that the offence is grateful to her--that she deems it no insult.” That, then, shall be the test! So I determined. Edgerton must be punished. There is no escape. But for her--if she does not seek the earliest occasion to reveal the truth, she is guilty beyond doubt--doomed beyond redemption.