The Monday morning edition of the _Chesholm Courier_, September 19th,
18--, contained the following, eagerly devoured by every man and woman
in the county, able to read at all:

THE TRAGEDY AT CATHERON ROYALS.

"In all the annals of mysterious crime (began the editor, with intense
evident relish), nothing more mysterious, or more awful, has ever been
known, than the recent tragedy at Catheron Royals. In the annals of
our town, of our county, of our country we may almost say, it stands
unparalleled in its atrocity. A young and lovely lady, wedded little
better than a year, holding the very highest position in society, in
the sacred privacy of her own household, surrounded by faithful
servants, is struck down by the dagger of the assassin. Her youth, her
beauty, the sanctity of slumber, all were powerless to shield her.
Full of life, and hope, and happiness, she is foully and hideously
murdered--her babe left motherless, her young husband bereaved and
desolate. If anything were needed to make the dreadful tragedy yet
more dreadful, it is, that Sir Victor Catheron lies, as, we write,
hovering between life and death. The blow, which struck her down, has
stricken him too--has laid him upon what may be his death-bed. At
present he lies mercifully unconscious of his terrible loss tossing in
the delirium of violent brain fever.

"Who, we ask, is safe after this? A lady of the very highest rank, in
her own home, surrounded by her servants, in open day, is stabbed to
the heart. Who, we ask again, is safe after this? Who was the
assassin--what was the motive? Does that assassin yet lurk in our
midst? Let it be the work of the coroner and his jury to discover the
terrible secret, to bring the wretch to justice. And it is the duty of