them to hang him out of the way; for his conscience would reproach him
as long as he lived, and the figure of the deceased, as he had lain
senseless and without motion at his feet, would perpetually haunt him.
The thought of this man, at one moment full of life and vigour, and the
next lifted a helpless corpse from the ground, and all owing to him, was
a thought too dreadful to be endured. He had loved the poor maiden, who
had been the innocent occasion of this, with all his heart; but from
this time he should never support the sight of her. The sight would
bring a tribe of fiends in its rear. One unlucky minute had poisoned all
his hopes, and made life a burden to him. Saying this, his countenance
fell, the muscles of his face trembled with agony, and he looked the
statue of despair.

This was the story of which Mr. Falkland was called upon to be the
auditor. Though the incidents were, for the most part, wide of those
which belonged to the adventures of the preceding volume, and there had
been much less policy and skill displayed on either part in this rustic
encounter, yet there were many points which, to a man who bore the
former strongly in his recollection, suggested a sufficient resemblance.
In each case it was a human brute persisting in a course of hostility to
a man of benevolent character, and suddenly and terribly cut off in the
midst of his career. These points perpetually smote upon the heart of
Mr. Falkland. He at one time started with astonishment, and at another
shifted his posture, like a man who is unable longer to endure the
sensations that press upon him. Then he new strung his nerves to
stubborn patience. I could see, while his muscles preserved an
inflexible steadiness, tears of anguish roll down his cheeks. He dared
not trust his eyes to glance towards the side of the room where I stood;
and this gave an air of embarrassment to his whole figure. But when the
accused came to speak of his feelings, to describe the depth of his