"After this performance I went forth, hoping by a sharp walk to drown the
memory of the momentary deed. I passed through the garden and reached the
sloping hill. There, where the low fence joined the open road, I was met
by the lady whom I loved. She was taking the morning air, and with her
smiling face seemed drinking in its balmy freshness.

"'You look ill,' said she, with a pitying glance. 'See what I have
brought for you,' and she held forth a newly-plucked bouquet of flowers.

"I took the proffered blossoms hurriedly, dreading to meet her clear eye,
which I felt must surely read my guilt. Burying the flowers in my breast,
and with an effort to smile that sickened me, I bowed low to the ground
and hurried on.

"When beyond her sight I drew the nosegay from its hiding place--it was
withered as if scorched by a burning heat! Upon looking closer at this
strange phenomena, I beheld, to my horror, in dim outline, the face of
the murdered! Whence came the impression? Had my riotous heart burnt the
secret upon those blushing petals?

"Frantically I tore open my shirt, when lo! upon my breast I beheld
imprinted a picture of the direful deed--seared in by rays more potent
than the sun's--photographed there, as if by the lightning's fierce
stroke!

"Presently a band of children on their way to school overtook me, and
began to whisper to each other as they passed. I saw that they looked at
me with suspicion in their eyes. 'They too can see the brand,' thought I;
'they are mouthing about it now.'