“My wife now began to display reckless extravagance; nothing was good enough for her; the handsome settlement I had made on her failed to meet a fraction of her expenses, and she became so degraded as to borrow money of my very servants. Love, they say, is blind, and in my case, I fear, was frequently blind drunk. On these occasions I would agree to anything, and gradually signed away first one thing, and then another, till I found myself divested of house, estates, everything, and a pensioner on my wife’s bounty. It may seem incredible that anything should be capable of bringing the blush of shame to such as I—I who for six long years have worn this dreadful dress—but, believe me, my cheeks tingle even now when I think of it all. I was at length compelled to resort to the pawnbroker’s, and watch, chain, ring, everything, found their way to an establishment in — Road. My credit, once good, was entirely gone; tradesmen to whom I owed money began to dun me; others refused me the smallest credit; servants, washerwomen, butchers, and bakers all were creditors; writs and County Court summonses were of daily occurrence; and the family mansion that my ancestors had never disgraced was in the hands of the bailiffs. How I cried out in my anguish will never be known. Relations I had none to whom I could apply for sympathy or advice. My only friend was ‘drink,’ and in my misery I turned to it with redoubled energy. I have not much more to tell; the climax which brought me here was very near at hand. One afternoon I had returned to our lodgings (we were then in apartments at 28, — Place) rather sooner than expected from a fruitless endeavour to borrow a few pounds. I had stopped at every public-house, and gulped down a dram of cheap spirits, in hopes of lightening my sorrow; I was, I believe, almost mad with misery and drink. As I entered the room the first thing that met my gaze was the hated ‘Cousin.’ To seize a loaded pistol that always hung over the mantel-piece was the work of a second, and, without aim, without deliberation, I fired. The report and my wife’s screams alarmed a policeman who happened to be passing by; he entered and found her swooning on the ground, but happily uninjured. Thank God! I’m free of that crime—and the tell-tale bullet lodged in the wall. Concealment was hopeless. I was there and then arrested, and eventually sentenced, on the evidence of my wife and her paramour, to ‘twenty years’ penal servitude.’” His excited state alarmed me. I feared we should be observed, but it was hopeless to attempt to check him as, with eyes starting, and the tears flowing fast, he added, pointing to his seamed and blotchy face: “The worst has yet to be told; look at these scars that I shall carry with me to the grave. Can you suspect what they are? My —.” “Hush!” I said, “they have noticed us.”