The consequence of the indulgence of this habit was soon exhibited. He became gloomy, sullen, and ferocious. He no longer treated his wife, to whom he was so much indebted, and the only being with whom he associated, with his wonted kindness and affection, but, when maddened with liquor, often abused her. Marie bore this for a long time with patience. She still sought his hiding-place at times, and bore him the poisonous beverage, probably unconscious that she was thus indirectly the cause of the changed conduct in her husband. He continued his ill treatment, especially when under the influence of liquor, and after a time the affection of Marie for her husband was extinguished. She began to regard him as the fierce outlaw and murderer, who cherished no gentle affections, but took pleasure in abusing the woman who held his life in her hands, and had labored hard and risked much to screen him from capture and cheer him in his concealment. Her visits became more seldom, and the ill temper of her husband increased. One night, Marie pursued her devious way to the mountains to furnish Jack with the accustomed supplies. He snatched form her hand the liquor, and took a deep draught. The poison did its work. He became excited, and quarreled with his wife; and, roused to fury by her reproaches, struck her with his hand, seized her by the shoulder and thrust her from the hut, tumbling her over the ledge. Marie rose, groaning with pain, being severely bruised. The cup of her indignation, which had long been full, was now overflowing. She slowly returned to her home in Guayave, brooding over schemes of revenge, and formed the determination to betray her husband into the hands of justice. She called upon Dr. Duncan, a rich planter and a magistrate, and offered to guide him to the spot where Jack Shadow, the daring rebel, was concealed. Within a couple of hours after the magistrate received the welcome information, he was on his way to the mountains, accompanied by Marie and a guard of soldiers. They entered the thicket on the side of the mountain, where Jack Shadow had taken up his abode. They came to a precipitous ledge of rocks. "Move gently, now," said Marie, in a low voice; "we are close upon his hut." The soldiers could see nothing resembling a hut. With their muskets loaded, and bayonets fixed, they with difficulty made their way through steep, rugged, and crooked passes, and, after a toilsome march, stood by the side of Jack's habitation.