What followed may be briefly told. At the appointed hour Seymour was waiting, and unperceived, we quitted the village in a vehicle he had procured. We travelled all night; and when morning was breaking, my husband discharged the cart, and we entered an obscure inn to obtain the rest and refreshment which to both were wanting. The morning light, feeble at first, grew stronger; and I nearly fainted, when for the first time I remarked the altered appearance of my husband. His light brown hair, once so sedulously attended to, was clipped short, and the very colour changed to raven blackness, and his skin was bronzed like that of a gipsy. Formerly, he dressed with simple elegance; but now his clothes were actually shabby, and put on with the marked indifference of a man who is reckless of appearances. He had no luggage with him--the few articles he possessed were tied up in a little bundle. I felt assured that some terrible reverse had overtaken him; and in this sad hour recollected the evil auguries of my uncle Josiah. But my situation was hopeless. The last rash action was far beyond recall; and mustering a desperate resolution, I determined to bow to my destiny, and share the fate of my ill-starred husband. One thing I believed, that the worst was known, and we had descended fortune’s ladder to the lowest step. I was wrong: the extent of my debasement remained still to be disclosed. We appeared to wander over the country without any settled object; and provided the route led from the metropolis, my husband seemed indifferent whither our footsteps turned. A fortnight passed, and we still continued to pursue what appeared to me would prove a sad and endless pilgrimage. One evening, after a fatiguing walk, we found ourselves settled in a road-side ale-house. Both required some rest, and we looked forward to a comfortable night, for the house was clean, and our reception had been civil. Alas! we had already experienced how much an inn’s civility depends upon the appearance of those who claim admittance! Our resources were reduced to a few pounds; and my soiled dress and Seymour’s care-worn countenance proclaimed our poverty at once, and by more than one landlord we had been unceremoniously rejected. While supper was being prepared, Seymour stretched himself upon a bench beneath a spreading elm which stood before the door, and I remained at a window of the room to which we had been introduced on our arrival. A newspaper was lying on the table. I took it up, and for a few minutes glanced carelessly across its columns. Suddenly, my attention was fearfully awakened, my eyes were fascinated to one spot,--a scorching lire shot through my brain,--I read the fatal paragraph a second time,--fainted,--and dropped upon the floor.