Mrs. Raymond uttered not one single word, but, thrusting her hand into her bosom, she slowly approached the author of her ruin, who still continued to peruse his letters in entire unconsciousness of the terrible danger that hung over him. I watched Mrs. Raymond with the closest attention, fully determined to spring forward at the critical moment and prevent the desperate woman from accomplishing her deadly purpose. It was a deeply interesting and thrilling scene, and one which I shall never forget. There sat the intended victim, whose soul was hovering on the awful precincts of an endless eternity; there stood the avenger of her own wrongs, her right hand nervously grasping the hilt of the weapon in her bosom, her face deadly pale, and her eyes flashing with wild excitement. And there I stood, trembling with agitation, and ready to spring forward at the proper time to prevent the consummation of a bloody tragedy. Mr. Livingston suddenly looked up from his letters, and started when he beheld the pale and wrathful countenance of Mrs. Raymond, whose eyes were fixed upon him with an expression of the most deadly hatred. "Your face seems strongly familiar to me; have we not met before?" asked Livingston. "Yes," calmly replied Mrs. Raymond--"we _have_ met before." "That voice!" cried the doomed villain--"surely I know it. Who are you, and what want you with me?" "I am the victim of your treacherous villainy, and I want revenge!" screamed Mrs. Raymond, as, with the quickness of lightning, and before I could prevent her, she drew her weapon and plunged it into the heart of Livingston, who fell from his chair to the floor and died instantly. "Now I am satisfied," said the woman, as she coolly wiped the blood from the blade of her knife. Language cannot depict the horror which the contemplation of this bloody deed caused within me. True, I had myself slain a human being--but then it was done in self-defence, and amid all the heat and excitement of a personal contest. _This_ deed, on the contrary, had been committed, coolly and deliberately; and, although Mrs. Raymond's wrongs were undoubtedly very great, I really could not find it in my heart to justify her in what she had done. How bitterly I reproached myself for not having adopted some effectual means of hindering the performance of that appalling deed, even at the risk of incurring Mrs. Raymond's severe and eternal displeasure! I felt myself to be in some measure an accessory to the crime; and I feared the law would, at all events, consider me as such. "What is done cannot be helped now," said I to Mrs. Raymond, who stood calmly surveying the body of her victim--"come let us leave the house and seek safety in flight. We may possibly escape the consequence of this bloody act." "No," said the woman--"_I_ shall not stir an inch. I have relieved the world of a monster, and now I am ready to receive my reward, even if it be the scaffold. But go, my friend--go, and secure your own safety."