“I know by your looks that you have done something, Ross. Don’t speak of me at such a time, but tell me what happened.” “I struck him,” replied he, rather doggedly. “I gave him the blow he deserved.” “Why did you, Ross?” said she, reproachfully, as she rose from the bed. “You have struck me, as well as him.” “Struck you, Mary? Don’t you hate the villain?” “I do not hate him, Ross. I could forgive him. Have you told me all?” He made no reply. “You have struck him down, Ross, and he lies upon the beach now. He will die there!” exclaimed she, springing from the bed. “Be calm, Mary.” “I will go to him.” “No; you must not.” “You have struck me harder than you struck him.” “Do not say that, Mary. He is a villain. Think what he has done! He cast you off like an unclean thing!” “He lies on the beach, and he will die there,” continued she, rising and taking a shawl. “I must go to him. I must undo what you have done, if I can.” “It is too late.” “Ross! Ross!” cried she, in horror and anguish. “I could not help it. It was for your sake I did it.” “Where is he now?” “What does it matter to you where he is, Mary? Be quiet now.” “I must go and find him.” “You cannot find him.” “Ross, what have you done with him?” “I struck him down; and then I heaved his vile carcass over the cliff into the river! Now you know it all. I have avenged your wrongs, Mary.” The poor girl sank back upon the bed with a groan, and her senses left her again. She was too weak and feeble to endure the terrible blow. To her other miseries was now added the revolting fact that her brother was a murderer. Ross called Mrs. Kingman, and together they struggled to reclaim the life which seemed to have fled. She opened her eyes at last, but by two o’clock in the morning, her condition was such, that the watchers by her side were greatly alarmed, and Ross started for the Port to procure the physician. As he walked rapidly down to the landing, he began to fear that he had done wrong; that his vengeance had fallen heavier upon his innocent sister than upon the villain who had wronged her. He might have thought of this before he struck the fatal blow, but he did not. The reflection impressed itself more strongly upon his mind till he bitterly reproached himself for the crime. With vigorous stroke he pulled across the channel, and hastened up to the office of the doctor. To his great satisfaction he saw a light in the window, and he gave the door bell a violent pull. Doctor Bilks came to the door himself. He was a young man, of twenty-six. During the preceding autumn, while Eugene Hungerford was in Europe, he had visited the place ostensibly for gunning and fishing purposes, but the wise ones afterwards came to the conclusion that it was in search of a good location to build up a practice for himself. He hailed from Ohio.