His attitude, the cataract so near, my own lost and hopeless condition, all rushed upon me. Vailing my face, I darted forward and uttered a shriek. Startled by the unexpected sound, he turned, lost his balance, and fell backward into the torrent. But, as he fell, he clutched a branch which overhung the water. Thus, scarcely two yards from the brink, he struggled madly for his life, his face upturned to the moon. I advanced and uncovered my face. He knew me, for the shock had sobered him. "Marion, save me, save me!" he cried. I gazed upon him without a word, my arms folded on my breast, and saw him struggle, and heard the branch snap, and--heard his death-howl, as he was swept over the falls. Then, pale as death, and shuddering as with mortal cold, I dragged my steps from the Island, over the bridge--shrieking madly for help. Soon, I heard footsteps and voices. "Help! help!" I shrieked, as I was surrounded by a group of faces, men and women. "My husband! my husband! the falls!" and sank, fainting, in their midst. CHAPTER IX. A SECOND MARRIAGE. Morning came, and no suspicion attached to me. A murderess--if not in deed, in thought, certainly--I was looked upon as the inconsolable widow. Walter left Niagara without seeing me. How did he regard me? I could not tell. The death of Burley broke up our traveling party, and we returned to New York. I returned in time to attend my father's funeral; and found myself the heiress, in my own right, of three hundred thousand dollars. An heiress and a widow, certainly life began to brighten! Burley removed, the incubus which sat upon my father's wealth was gone; and I was beautiful, and free, and rich--immensely rich. But where was Walter? Months passed, and I did not see him. As he was the head clerk of my father, I hoped to see him, in company with legal gentlemen, engaged to close up my father's estate. But he settled his accounts, closed all connection with my father's estate and business, but did not come near me. At length, weary of suspense, and heart-sick of the loneliness of my desolate mansion, I wrote to him, begging an interview. He called in the dusk of the evening, when a single candle lighted up the spacious and gloomy parlor. He was dressed in deep mourning, and very pale. "_Madam_, you wished to see me," he began. This cold and formal manner cut me to the heart. "Walter!" I cried, and flung myself upon his breast, and passionately, but in broken accents, told him how my father's anticipated ruin had forced me to marry Burley. Walter was melted. "Marion, I love you, and always shall love you, but--but--" He paused. In an agony of suspense I hung upon his words. "But--" "But you are so rich, and I--I--am poor!" I drowned all further words with kisses, and in a moment we were betrothed again.