Williams, and her son to murder his brother's widow. He read them slowly
through, and taking them in his hand walked towards the fireplace; he
was about to cast them in, when the same low mocking voice sounded so
close him--he turned and beheld an appalling spectacle. The picture of
his own mother, that had occupied a large compartment of the room, had
entirely disappeared, although but the instant before he had seen
it--and in its place appeared the figures of a man in a full dress naval
uniform, and a lady in the costume of the one he had murdered in distant
America. He gave one wild shriek and fell senseless on the floor. To
seize the papers was to Edward, whom our readers will easily guess to
have personated the lady, but the work of a moment; he regained the
panel and swung it to just as the domestics were hurrying up; not
however before he had fixed upon the toilet with a penknife of the
Earl's, a paper with the word "doomed!" in large characters traced upon
it.




CHAPTER IX.

THE AGENT'S PUNISHMENT.


The village bells tolled mournfully, and the stout farmers looked with
Saddened faces at each other on the morning which was to consign to
earth the remains of Mary Waters. Matrons held their aprons to their
eyes as they followed the melancholy procession. She was laid by her own
request in the same grave with Ellen Hunter. The old clergyman who had
loved her as his daughter, faltered as he read the solemn words, "I am