About the time the conversation which we have related occurred, Dr. Dalton had an interview with Mary Fulton, who had once been his betrothed bride. She had been visiting some of her friends in Bayton, and Dalton called to see her, but so absolutely was he the slave of his appetite as to be under the influence of liquor when he did so. He begged her to reconsider what he considered her cruel decision, and to receive him on the same terms as of old; but she kindly though firmly refused to accede to his request. With tears in her eyes she told him she loved him yet, and should never love another; "but," she added, "I cannot place the slightest reliance upon your word, you have broken it so often; nor will I ever marry one who is so addicted to drink, as it would, in the end, involve us both in bitterest misery." He left her that night in a state of desperation, and she was the last person who saw him alive. For a short time his absence was not commented upon, as he frequently absented himself for lengthy periods from his boarding-place; but as weeks passed away and there were no tidings of him, the anxiety of his friends became intense, and advertisments were inserted in the leading papers asking him to reply, if alive. Receiving no response, a reward was offered for any information regarding him; but this also proved futile, and a year passed before they had any idea of his fate. One day a boy who was gathering wood on the beach, which separated the bay from the lake, when going into a thick grove of cedar bushes which grew luxuriantly there, was stricken with horror to see a ghastly human skull grinning at him. He immediately ran to Bayton to tell what he had found, and he looked almost half-dead with fright at his discovery. Those who went back with him searched and found in the skull the mark of a pistol ball, and buried in the sand, 'neath the skeleton fingers, was found a Smith & Wesson revolver. In the side pocket of his coat his wallet was discovered, with its contents untouched, and among numerous other articles was a letter addressed to Charles Dalton. Thus perished, at the early age of twenty-six, one who possessed a bright intellect and noble nature, but who had, after being the source of inexpressible sorrow to his friends, been brought to an untimely and dishonored grave through the drink curse. Mary Fulton now dresses in deep mourning, and still remains faithful to her vow never to marry. She says her heart lies buried in the grave with Charles Dalton, and her pale, sad face seals the testimony of her lips. When Aunt Debie was informed of the doctor's death she said--"Did I not tell thee, Phoebe, two years ago, when I dreamt of them plucking the ears of corn, that Dr. Dalton would die before long? Thee sees it has come troo, and I've never known it to fail. I wonder if James Gurney would laugh now?"