“This dispatch was handed to the operator at the first office we reached, who promised to forward it without delay. Then I dropped down on my seat and spent every moment in earnest prayer. “It was fifteen minutes past eight when the train arrived at Grenada, and I believe that city is just one hundred miles from Memphis. That is the place where the Mississippi and Tennessee Railroad connects with the New Orleans, St. Louis and Chicago Railroad, and we would have to take the Mississippi and Tennessee road to go to Memphis. As soon as the train halted I hastened to the telegraph office to inquire for news, as I was expecting an answer to my last message. I was well acquainted with the young man who had charge of the office at Grenada--he had formerly resided in Memphis. He was about my own age, and we had been bosom friends for many years. I rushed into his presence and hurriedly inquired if there was a dispatch in the office for me. “‘Take a seat, Demar,’ said the operator, ‘you look very ill; can I do anything for you?’ “‘Any telegram here for me?’ I exclaimed, disregarding his kind offer. “‘Yes,’ he hesitatingly answered, ‘but you had better take a seat and compose yourself before you read it. The news it brings is very bad, though I infer that you have been expecting it.’ “The objects in the room seemed to be running round, a blindness began to close over my eyes, and I felt a smothering sensation in my throat and lungs. The operator very fortunately happened to think of a bottle of spirits of camphor that he had bought from the drug-store that day--he seized it and sprinkled my face and moistened my beard with the liquid, which I believe prevented me from fainting. After a few minutes had elapsed I requested him to give me the dispatch. “‘You may give it to me now,’ I said, ‘because I am prepared for the very worst.’ “He handed the envelope to me and I read the following words: “‘MY DEAR BOY--Trust in God--He alone can comfort you now--our darling is dying. Death began to lay his cold hands on her dear body at four o’clock. She may linger four or five hours longer, but I think all will be over before that time. She expressed so much anxiety to see Viola that the sheriff very kindly consented to bring her here, and when they met it was the most affecting scene I ever witnessed. I fear we committed an error in allowing Viola to come, because as soon as the sheriff started away with his prisoner Lottie became worse, and is still rapidly failing. But how could I have the heart to refuse to let her see Viola, when she insisted so earnestly to have her sent for? Lottie leaves many messages of love with us to be delivered to you when you come, provided you do not arrive in time to receive them from her own lips.