Middleton's shoulder, though aimed at his head; and the blow was terribly
avenged, even by itself, for the jar caused the hammer to come down; the
gun went off, sending the bullet downwards through the heart of the
unfortunate man, who fell dead upon the ground. Eldredge[1] stood
stupefied, looking at the catastrophe which had so suddenly occurred.

[1] Evidently a slip of the pen; Middleton being intended.

_May 3d, Monday._--So here was the secret suddenly made safe in this so
terrible way; its keepers reduced from two parties to one interest; the
other who alone knew of this age-long mystery and trouble now carrying it
into eternity, where a long line of those who partook of the knowledge,
in each successive generation, might now be waiting to inquire of him how
he had held his trust. He had kept it well, there was no doubt of it; for
there he lay dead upon the ground, having betrayed it to no one, though
by a method which none could have foreseen, the whole had come into the
possession of him who had brought hither but half of it. Middleton looked
down in horror upon the form that had just been so full of life and
wrathful vigor--and now lay so quietly. Being wholly unconscious of any
purpose to bring about the catastrophe, it had not at first struck him
that his own position was in any manner affected by the violent death,
under such circumstances, of the unfortunate man. But now it suddenly
occurred to him, that there had been a train of incidents all calculated
to make him the object of suspicion; and he felt that he could not, under
the English administration of law, be suffered to go at large without
rendering a strict account of himself and his relations with the
deceased. He might, indeed, fly; he might still remain in the vicinity,
and possibly escape notice. But was not the risk too great? Was it just
even to be aware of this event, and not relate fully the manner of it,
lest a suspicion of blood-guiltiness should rest upon some innocent head?