“_I_ leave!” said I, now fairly awake to the danger. “What do you mean, sir?” “I mean,” he replied with diabolical blandness, “that this lady is my wife, and will from this time take charge of this establishment.” “Richard Bristed, you cannot, dare not make that assertion! I am your wife, though I acknowledge it with shame and sorrow. He has misled you, madam,” said I, turning to the lady. “You are mistaken if you suppose I shall abandon my rights.” “Ha, ha!” he laughed, “_she_ knows all about you. You cannot enlighten her, so you had better hasten and pack your trunks.” “I shall not leave, sir; I shall defend my position here. I am a woman, and you shall not sully my fair name,” said I, maddened by his manner. “Your brother will help me--the law will aid me. Here I remain!” “You will?” said he; “we will see. This house is mine,” and he drew out his pistol with which to frighten me. “Richard,” said I, hoping to restore him to calmness, “put up that pistol. You cannot, dare not use it.” “Dare not!” he exclaimed, coming up to me, his hot breath smelling of wine; “I will show you if I dare not!” I was alarmed as he suddenly cocked the weapon. What might he not do in his drunken excitement? “She is a coward, Dick,” said the lady. “Don’t trouble yourself about her,” and then turning to me and stamping her foot, “How dare you say you are his wife!” she exclaimed. “Go out from here!” I shook from head to foot, but did not leave. “Come, Dick, give me the pistol,” said the lady; “You don’t know what you might do with it.” “Don’t meddle with me,” said he, as she attempted to wrest it from his grasp. “Why does that girl stand glowering at me?” “O Richard,” I sobbed, “my heart is ready to burst! Don’t act so; remember Herbert!” “Remember Herbert!” he muttered; “I do remember him. You killed him with your pranks, and now you would accuse me. Go, leave my house, or I will compel you.” I believe he would have fired upon me at that moment, but the lady sprang forward and caught his arm. A slight struggle ensued, then followed a sharp report, and the pistol fell to the ground; a fearful shriek rent the air, and Richard fell heavily to the floor, covered with blood. I rushed to help him. He raised his glassy eyes to mine, and faintly murmuring “My God! I am lost!” expired. CHAPTER XXI. The shock was too much for me. I was seized with fearful dizziness. The objects in the room became black before my eyes, and I fell to the floor beside the bleeding corpse, insensible. Convulsions, I was afterwards told, followed this swoon. A raging fever attacked me, and for weeks my life was despaired of. At length the crisis passed; my youthful constitution conquered the disease, and I was again restored to the world in which I had experienced so much joy and so much misery.