"In an insurance case, the evidence of which was strongly against him,
he went in disguise to New London, where the witnesses, mostly sailors,
resided. In a loafer-like swagger he proposed and secured bets from
every material evidence in the case, and thus disqualified them from
bearing testimony, on the ground that they were interested witnesses."
In his old age he married his housekeeper, and closed an eventful and
unblessed life at Bridgeport, April 14, 1826. 'Tis well to memorize him
here, and thus register birth and death on the very page that records
the most mysterious chapter of his history.

Let us return to unite and conclude our story. In June, 1788, a female
of uncommon beauty of person, yet with an oppressed and melancholy
bearing, suddenly appeared at the old Bell Tavern in Danvers,
Massachusetts, (a drawing of which is here introduced.) She was habited
in black, and was seldom seen abroad, never except alone, and at
twilight, when she was observed to wander as far as the old burying
ground hard by, and there to pause at its entrance, gazing long and
earnestly upon its silent, scattered mounds, at length retracing her
steps with the same melancholy gait and air.

Here she remained nearly a month, discovering to none her real name or
situation. She passed her time in writing, and occasionally playing upon
a guitar, which was the only companion of her solitude. After remaining
there about two weeks a chaise was seen to pause before the door, upon
the lintel of which had secretly been traced in chalk, as it afterwards
appeared, the letters "E.W." A gentleman hastily alighted, and was also
observed through the darkness of the evening to examine the casing of
the door, and then return to the chaise and drive rapidly away.

The opinion was, by those who were cognizant of the fact, that this was