His name is carved upon a beam up stairs. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. When she awoke, the sun was high in Heaven. The necessity which had previously existed of leaving the ghastly evidence of the murderous deed undisturbed,—the presence of the mangled corpse,—the bustle of the inquest, at which her attendance was required,—all these circumstances produced a harrowing effect upon the young girl's imagination. Her nerves were shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. .
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