Mrs. Dunn could only weep, for she knew not, dreamed not, what her son could mean. Soon he grew calm, and fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke Billy Jeffrey, who lived near, was sitting by him. To Mrs. Dunn’s delight, Joseph was sane, and calling her to him he said, "Isn’t Julia Middleton to be married tonight?" "She is," answered his mother. "At what hour?" "At seven." "What time is it now?" "Half-past six," replied Mrs. Dunn. "It must not be," said Joseph, and turning to Bill he added, "listen, William, to what I have to tell, then speed along on the lightning’s wing, and tear her from the altar—take her from his side, I say, and put there the other one, the pale, golden-haired one"; then, as he noticed the vacant look on Bill’s face, he added, "oh, no, you can’t tell it. You wouldn’t understand it. Mother, bring me a pen and some paper." The paper was brought, and as soon as possible Joseph wrote a confession of his own and Julia’s guilt. "Now, Bill," said he, "run for your life, and give this to Dr. Lacey. Do it for the sake of Fanny." Bill needed no second bidding. His obtuse intellect had gathered that in some way Fanny was in danger, and away he flew over bushes, briers, rocks and ditches. But alas! The way was long and dark, and ere he was aware of it, he was precipitated into one of the sink holes which are so common in the limestone soil of Kentucky. The fall sprained his ankle, but gathering himself up, he continued on, slowly and painfully. Meantime delirium had again crept over Joseph Dunn, and he forgot that he sent Billy, but concluded he must go himself. Watching a time when his mother was from the room, he rose, and throwing on his double gown, went forth into the storm, and was soon far on his road toward Mr. Middleton. ------------------------------------- The man of God had scarcely finished the second paragraph of the Episcopal ceremony, beginning with, "I require and charge you both," etc., when a shriek, wild and unearthly and horrid, rent the air. It was succeeded by a thunder crash so deafening that the ladies paled with terror. The large maple tree, which stood by the front door, and which Julia had called hers, was shivered by lightning, but no one heeded it, for again was heard that fearful, maniacal shriek, and this time could be distinguished the sound as of some one struggling with the blacks, who were huddled together in the hall. "Let me go, I tell you," said the voice. "It shall not go on!"