Mr. N. Perkins having had occasion to call that day on Mr. W. H. Lyon, was enquired of by him concerning the state of the prisoner. Mr. Perkins informed him that he was alive when he left him; but thought he would be dead before night. This information Mr. Lyon communicated the same evening to a number of persons who were assembled at the house of Mr. Scribner, and added that he was dead, for that while he was on his way to Mr. Scribner’s, (it having been in the dusk of the evening,) he had seen _Smith’s Ghost_ pass by him at a short distance off, without touching the ground. This singular report, as it came from a quarter that could not be well disputed, very much alarmed the whole company, and formed the subject of their conversation for the evening. But return to our narrative. After the prisoner had made his will, he was, for a short time, left alone, with the probability that he would shortly be seized by another fit, which he was not expected to survive. About 6 o’clock in the evening, the Rev. Mr. Scovil observed to his family, that it was then about the same hour of the day at which Smith had had his fit on the day preceding; that he thought he would die suddenly; he would therefore walk over to the Court House and be ready there at the time, as it must be unpleasant for Mr. Dibble to be alone. This so much awakened the sensibilities of Mrs. Scovil, that she could not bear the reflection, that a child of parents that were perhaps respectable, should be so near her, in a strange country, sick and dying, on a bed of straw. She therefore called Amy, her wench. “Here,” said she, “take this feather bed, and carry it to the gaol, and tell Mr. Dibble that I have sent it for Smith to die on.” Mr. Scovil had been in the house, and seated with Mr. Dibble but a very short time, when a noise was heard from Smith in the gaol. John Dibble, who constantly attended on him, ran in haste, unlocked the prison door, found him in the agonies of a fit, and almost expiring. He made an effort to speak, and begged John to run and heat a brick that was near, and apply it to his feet, to give him one moment’s relief while he was dying, for that his feet and legs were already cold and dead to the knees. John, willing to afford what relief he could to the dying man, ran in great haste from the gaol through the passage round the stairway that led to the kitchen, where was a large fire of coals, into which he cast the brick, waited but a few minutes, and returned with the heated brick to the prison; but to his indiscribable astonishment, and almost unwilling to believe the evidence of his senses, the dying man had disappeared, and could not be found!!! John ran with the tidings to his father and the Rev. Mr. Scovil, who were sitting in a room which the prisoner must have passed in his escape. They were entirely incredulous to the report of an affair so unparalleled, and would not yield their belief until they searched