"Is it not so?" inquired Mary.

"It may be," I replied, watching with a fixed stare the third shadow, now waxing dim, and at length fading altogether from my sight.

"How came it there?" she repeated, with faltering voice.

"I know not," returned I, confused. "Perhaps by accident."

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May God forgive ye, Tom!" added she, with the quick perception of a woman; “I do, with all my soul. Accident! Oh, Tom! it freezes me to think of the purpose for which it was brought. The fears pourtrayed this morning and to-night; the causeless passion and threatened words; the wild look and desperate thought; all tell, too well, the reason of its being there-fallen from a hand, thank Heaven! still unprepared to do a deed of blood."

As if my memory had suddenly become a void and blank, I could not summons a single word of defence or palliation; but there I stood motionless and dumb-founded.

"And could you, Tom," said Mary-and

every word dropped witheringly to my heart, -"could you think of taking the life of her whom you had promised-so faithfully promised to love, and cherish, and protect? -and that, too, without cause-without one act, word, or thought in opposition to your will? Here, before HIM who knows the secrets of all human hearts, and the grave of her whose pride, whilst living, was that I never told a falsehood, I swear not to have given ye reason for one angry or jealous pang. If I have listened to another's suit, it has been to give this one reply—that I loved, and only could love, you, Tom." I could not speak.

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"Well may you hear," she resumed, a voice that others cannot. Well may you see shadows which are sightless, save to your eyes. They are the mockeries of your guilty thoughts -the reproaches and reflections of an accusing conscience." "I'm mad!" exclaimed I.

quite mad!"

"Mad

""Tis but a sorry excuse, Tom," replied Mary, shaking her head with a sad expres

sion," and yet one that is often used. If scope and rein be given to evil passions, impulses, and furious resentment, men, now-adays, say they're mad. Under this plea, the worst of crimes are screened, and even the perpetrators of them meet with sympathy, instead of well-merited punishment. I've heard," she continued, "that there is but little method in unseated reason. You did not forget to sharpen the edge of this knife, Tom, before coming hither."

I felt the guilty wretch I was, and could say nothing.

"This morning," she resumed, "you asked for the forgiveness of the anxious trouble you had given me of late; and tonight you were to meet me here, and supplicate for pardon from your offended God. Instead of the meek and gentle penitent, ready to acknowledge and confess his sinful transgressions, I find ye possessed of dark and desperate thoughts, guilty fears, jealousy, anger, and revenge. Here, at our trystingspot, where we have so often met, I find ye came with a hand prepared to sink your

soul into eternal perdition with a deed too shocking to repeat. Oh, Tom!" exclaimed she, sobbing with grief, "what can have changed ye thus?"

I was about to reply, and crave forgiveness, when the third shadow again sprang larger and darker than before at my feet, and, with uplifted hand and nodding head, waved me towards Mary.

As if carved from wood or stone, I stood regarding the shade, but felt deprived of the power to either move or speak.

"Can it be that you are lost, quite lost?" said Mary. 66 Has your heart become so stubborn and hardened, as to reject the forgiveness promised to all who seek it? Let me fervently hope," she continued, "and constantly pray, that it may not be so. And yet, until some proof be given of your repentance and reclamation, we will not meet again, Tom. I know what I know what you would say," added she, sorrowfully, as I clasped my hands, and fell upon my knees in despair. "Let your petition be addressed, as you now kneel, humbly and penitently, but not

to me. Farewell, Tom!" and quitting me with hurried step, I was left alone—and yet two shadows still were there.

When her retreating footsteps were no longer heard, I started to my feet, and rushed with the speed which only terror lends, from the dreaded, and, to me, awestricken place. Over mound and grave, and through the boundary-hawthorn fence, I flew without a thought as to whither I should go for a retreat from my maddening fears. To run, to get away, was the impulse to which every nerve, thew, and sinew, were strained to the utmost, and on I swept like a stag with the hound's fangs snapping at his haunch.

Upon gaining some four or five hundred yards from the church-yard, I turned my head to see if the terrible shadow followed in my footsteps. Yes, there were still two, one blacker than the other, and both gliding with me at every stride. Words cannot

picture the horror that I felt!

Faster yet I hurried wildly on. Through brake and briar, and jumping gate, fence, stile, and