A MORNING in the year 1793 witnessed an extraordinary excitement among the inhabitants of a small town in one of the western counties of England. The large parlor of "The Crown," the best inn in the place, could not contain the multitudes crowding the entrance. A constable, with his official staff, was employed in making room for the coroner and his jury, about to examine the body of a stranger, found dead that morning in a house occupied by a person resident but a short time near the village.

Upon a rudely constructed table lay the corpse, on which all eyes were fixed. In the provinces remote from the capital, the custom in those days was not merely for the jury to examine the dead body and then adjourn for consultation to another apartment. On the contrary, the whole business was conducted with the corpse, lightly covered, lying before them. On this occasion the covering had been raised several times, to gratify the curiosity of lovers of the horrible. At length the jury, after exchanging salutations with their acquaintances, took their seats round a table. They were chiefly artisans from the village, or farmers from the neighborhood, with the exception of two or three more distinguished in society. One of the last was a man of about seventy years of age, who had formerly been engaged in mercantile business at Liverpool; and now found pleasure in active usefulness in his native place. He was foreman of the grand jury at the assizes; twice he had filled the office of overseer of the poor, besides being churchwarden. Notwithstanding the infirmities of age, he was unwilling to decline any public service.

The jury were waiting the arrival of the coroner. At last a murmur among

the spectators announced that he had entered the room, accompanied by the landlord. Mr. Green (that was his name) entered at once upon his business; the oath was administered, and the cloth removed from the body. It was covered with dark blue spots, that seemed to indicate death by cholera ; there were marks already of the commencement of decay; but the flesh was firm and elastic under pressure. The head and face were frightfully swollen, so that they retained scarce a semblance of humanity. Mr. Parr, the old man above mentioned, had not before seen the corpse. When informed, a few minutes previous, of the general conclusion, viz., that the deceased had died by a strong poison, he had related a singular case of poisoning which had come to his knowledge some five and twenty years before. The person who had employed the poison-different in its effects from any yet known-was supposed to have obtained it from a sailor belonging to a slave ship in Liverpool.

It was somewhat remarkable that this old man, who had several times before officiated as coroner's juryman, seemed overcome with emotion at the first glance at the present victim. He stood pale and trembling; he grasped the table for support, and had he not been assisted by his companions, would have fallen to the ground.

Amid exclamations of "Poor Mr. Parr!" "Poor old man!" "Carry him out "" "Loose his neckcloth!" and other expressions of alarm and sympathy, he was borne from the apartment; while Mr. Green sullenly remarked,

"that old men were no better than old women, and should give up public business." But before choice could be made of another, Mr. Parr came back.

'He looked very pale, and his step was unsteady; but as he advanced to the table, he apologised for the disturbance he had caused, and declared himself ready to proceed.

The first witness called was Sarah Hodge, an elderly woman, and servant to Mr. Morton, in whose house the corpse had been found. She deposed that she had lived six months with her master, a man of some property, who lived a secluded life in a house not far from the town, and had besides her one servant-James. She did not know his other name. Her master's health was very bad, and she believed him somewhat disturbed in mind. She saw him but seldom; for her duty was only to put the house in order, and do the cooking. James waited upon Mr. Morton, and slept in a chamber adjoining his, to be at hand in case his services were required. On the morning preceding the fatal night, James had told her he had leave of absence to visit a friend. To the natural question of the witness, how Mr. Morton could do without him, James had answered, that his master was much better, and could spare him for some days; adding, that Sarah must make his bed, and wait upon him till his return.

The witness further stated that she was sent out towards evening on an errand, and on her return saw her master in the dining room. He said James had gone, and he should not need her any longer, for he was going to bed. About midnight or a little later, the witness was awakened by a shriek from the apartment of Mr. Morton; supposing him to be taken suddenly ill, she hastened to his assistance, but found the door of his dressing room locked. From the bedchamber behind that, she heard her master's voice, apparently in an agony of entreaty. He was beseeching mercy. Again and again he uttered the word "murder," but not as if calling for assistance.

At length all was silent. The witness, a woman of great strength of nerve, knocked at the door, but received no answer. Just as she had made up her mind to call her nearest neighbor, a farmer, who lived two hundred paces off, to her assistance, her master came out, "pale as a ghost." Without speaking a word, he beckoned her in, closed the door, and said in a low, hoarse tone, "I have had a visitor

No, no!" he cried, "not I! Go you and close the eyes of the dead yonder!"

He grasped nervously the hand of the witness. Anxious to see if anything had really occurred to disturb his intellects, she entered the sleeping apartment. The body of a man was stretched out on Mr. Morton's bed. It seemed just dead; the jaw was hanging down, the eves were half closed, the limbs were stiffened, and the body was quite naked. This horrible sight so terrified the witness, that with a scream she rushed from the chamber. Mr. Morton sought to detain her; but his grasp was too feeble. She hastened from the house; told the neighbors her dreadful story; and at break of day Mr. Morton was in prison on suspicion of the murder.

To the question if the deceased might not be her fellow servant James, the witness answered-that the face of the corpse was so dreadfully bloated and disfigured, she could not have recognized it, even had it been her own father. But she inclined to the belief that it was not James; he had worn a beard-whereas the deceased had none. James had always lived in kindness with his master, on whom he had been in attendance for many years. Several articles of his clothing were missing from his room, and the witness believed he had taken them with him. In her master's chamber, on the other hand, there were no clothes found which could have belonged to the deceased.

Such was the deposition of the first witness. The attention of the spectators was breathless; that of old Mr. Parr was painfully intense. With his chin resting on his hands, that grasped the golden head of his cane, he kept

his eyes fixed upon the woman, till she had done speaking. Then he fetched a deep sigh, shook his head, leaned back in his seat, and murmured something to himself.

Mr. Green remarked contemptuously to a younger juryman near himthat it was a pity people could not tell when they were superannuated; and then called for the farmer whom Sarah had first applied to for help. He could say nothing more than that he had found the body lying on the bed; and after diligent search through the chamber, had been unable to discover any clothing that might have belonged to the victim.

The constable who had arrested Mr. Morton deposed that his prisoner, from the first moment of his arrest, had refused to answer any questions. According to both the last witnesses, the accused had been cold, proud, and collected in his demeanor-either from the consciousness of innocence, or as prepared for the worst. The housekeeper, Sarah, alone had seen him moved.

It was now time to bring forward Mr. Morton. It had been nearly ten hours since his arrest; and he was in the next room, waiting for examination. Every eye was turned to the opened door; and so intense was the expectation, that several of the jurymen rose, notwithstanding Mr. Green's authoritative "Sit down, gentlemen-no disturbance! Constable, let us have quiet, or I must clear the room!" Mr. Parr remained seated, with his chin resting, as before, on his stick, that trembled under the pressure of his hands. The prisoner entered. He was dressed in deep mourning, with scrupulous attention to neatness. His Grecian features might have been called handsome, but for their excessive emaciation. His whole appearance would have commanded attention, even under ordinary circumstances.

The coroner asked what he had to declare relative to the recent occurrence. But the eyes of the accused met not the piercing glance of the questioner; they were fixed intently upon the linen cloth thrown over the corpse. Presently he drew a deep breath, indicating relief from mental anguish, in not seeing the full horrors of the sight disclosed. Again he looked around; the coroner spoke; the prisoner heard him not. Mr. Parr had risen from his

seat; he trembled in every limb; his look was fixed on the supposed murderer. Their eyes met-Mr. Green followed the direction of Morton's wild gaze; he saw Mr. Parr fall backward in a swoon, and supposed the old man's sudden illness had attracted the attention of the prisoner.

Just as I thought!" exclaimed he, with much vexation. "It is too bad to interrupt the business in this manner. Much as I esteem Mr. Parr in private life, this is the last time I shall suffer him to be called on the jury. He is too old for such things!"

Therewith he turned once more to the accused, who seemed to have recovered his self-possession. "We are ready to hear, "he resumed, "what you have to say in this business; yet," turning to the jury-as Morton bowed slightly"it is first necessary to have a medical examination. To-morrow, gentlemen, at the same hour, if you please. The prisoner must remain under guard; but is free to converse with his friends, provided they are not witnesses in this case."

The inquest was then adjourned, and Mr. Morton removed to an upper room, a constable being placed to guard the door.

Meanwhile, Mr. Parr was taken to his own dwelling. He had been long a widower; but his nephew and niece lived with him like his own children. Before evening he had completely recovered from the effects of his indisposition. His strength of mind seemed to have returned also, and he announced his intention of visiting the prisoner at "The Crown." His nephew endeavored to dissuade him from the risk of excitement, that might be injurious to his feeble frame; but the old man only answered,

"I am resolved to go. Mr. Green, as I understand, has stricken my name from the list of jurors, so that I can appear no more at the inquest. But I have reasons for interesting myself therein. You need not repeat to any one what I tell you. Some other time I may fully explain myself. Yet before I sleep I must speak with him they accuse of the murder."

The nephew did not attempt to withstand him further; and carefully wrapped up by his niece, the old man walked to " The Crown," in the next street. He sent up a note to Mr. Morton, and

received the prompt answer that the prisoner would see him.

"You are the only one he has consented to see, except his guard, and those he could not exclude," said the landlord. "He sent word to Mr. Vellum, the lawyer, who offered to undertake the defence, that he wanted no advocate. Sarah, his housekeeper, came also. On calmer reflection, she repented having accused her master, who, she said, was always so kind-hearted, he would not have harmed a flea. She wanted to ask his forgiveness. Mr. Morton sent her a message by the constable that she could not see him, but should not go without reward. He is a generous man, sir. He has given orders that both his guards shall be served with whatever they want, at his expense. I do not believe, sir, he poisoned that man.”

During this speech, the host, whose opinion had undergone such a change, had conducted the old gentleman to the door, which the constable opened for

him.

"You are welcome, sir," said Merton, after he had looked for a moment silently in the face of his visitor. He made a sign to the official, who brought a chair for Mr. Parr, and then withdrew.

"You remember me, then?" asked the old man."Perhaps you saw me this morning, and expected that I should come to you?"

"I saw you-I remembered you-I knew you would come to me," answered the prisoner in a hollow voice. "There are signs of an angry and avenging Providence that cannot be disregarded. I need not say the present is one of these."

"You have much to explain," resumed Mr. Parr, "concerning the mystery of this morning. I tremble now to think of it. What I saw more than twenty years since appeared again palpably before my eyes. I seemed again to behold the lifeless form of my friend-of your brother! I deemed it but a vision-a chimera of the imagination. When I came back into the room, the body was covered. I might have deceived myself; but when I saw you-changed-and yet still

"A living damnation!" interrupted the prisoner. "You have a right

yes, you have to know all !"

With a composure that shocked his

visitor, who knew not what a storm raged in the bosom of the wretched man, Morton rose from his seat, which he had not before quitted, and placed a flask of wine and glasses on the table. Then he threw himself again on his seat, and fixed his eyes intently on Parr.

"I need no refreshment, Morton, if you so call yourself now," said the old man. "I crave only to know how the sight I have to-day witnessed bears relation to the occurrence so many years past."

"What care I for your craving?" cried the prisoner roughly, while a terrible smile flitted across his emaciated countenance. "I can drink! Aye, to-day the cup is not in the dead man's hand! To-day I can drain the last drop, and never fear that the cup will be snatched away and held to the blue lips of the murdered!"

The prisoner poured wine into a large glass, and emptied it at a draught. As he replaced the glass on the table, his countenance had lost that unnatural smile.

"You can pledge me safely?" said he. Mr. Parr declined; but before he could speak, Morton continued: “You came not here to make compliments with me. Drink or drink not, as you please. Heaven is gracious; I can drink!"

A slow shudder came over Mr. Parr. Though prepared for strange words, this was not exactly what he had anticipated. Had he then placed himself in the power of a madman? The next moment, however, his apprehensions passed away, as he saw the prisoner clasp his forehead with both hands, striving, as it were, to check the wild current of his thoughts.

Forgive me, dear sir!" at length he said; "I will be more quiet-I will tell you all you wish to know; but not now. Do not be disturbed if I speak strangely. It is not madness, but frightful confusion of my thoughts. I will tell you incredible things; but you must not doubt them. What did you see this morning? What lies now in the room underneath? Fear nothing from me.

To-morrow I will surrender myself. Will that satisfy you? Now leave me. You shall know all-I repeat it-before I die!"

Having poured forth these words with great rapidity of utterance, though

with apparent self-possession, the prisoner buried his face in his hands, and stooped his head to the table. Mr. Parr began to speak soothingly, and expressed a wish that he would not look upon him as an enemy, but a friend, who, whatever may have been his guilt, would be glad to serve him. Morton answered with a convulsive laugh, and waved his hand impatiently, but did not raise his head. The benevolent old man at length was convinced his further stay was useless, and left the apartment full of sympathy for the misery he knew not how to alleviate.

The next day Mr. Parr was too much indisposed to be present even as a spectator at the inquest; but his nephew brought him information that Morton had confessed himself the murderer of the person found in his chamber. He refused, however, to reveal who his victim was, or the motive of his crime. The medical men who had examined the body, gave it as their opinion that death had been caused by a powerful poison, the nature of which none of them were able to determine. As nothing further could be ascertained to throw light on the transaction, the business was closed, and Morton committed to the county prison, to await his trial for the murder of a person unknown.

Before the accused was consigned to prison, he gave orders that the corpse of the murdered man should be buried with the utmost pomp of funeral ceremony. The expenses were defrayed out of his property. This strange scene assembled such multitudes of spectators in the burial ground of H- as had never before been seen. The public curiosity was extreme to discover who the dead was, and what were the circumstances of the murder. Meanwhile, as the time allotted for James's term of absence had expired without his appearance, search was made for him throughout the country, and he was advertised in all the journals. Notwithstanding the testimony of Sarah Hodge, that the deceased in no respect resembled her fellow-servant, not a few were of opinion that James was the murdered person. It was difficult, however, to explain why the assassin had taken such pains to alter the appearance of his victim. Others insisted that James had been an accomplice in the deed, and had afterwards made his escape.

At length the assizes came on. The day of Morton's trial was fixed; and it was generally believed that he would make a full confession. His deportment in prison showed the deepest melancholy. He would see no one but the physician and the chaplain. The former continually stated that his patient was wearing fast to the grave, and that he would not long survive, even if spared by the law; the chaplain had as little reason to congratulate himself upon the success of his efforts. The prisoner was courteous but reserved towards both, and avoided all conversation on the subject of the crime.

Old Mr. Parr, who had as yet mentioned to none what he knew, came to the town where the assizes were held, in order to be at hand should Morton desire his presence. He had written to him, but received no answer. At last the day of trial came. Those who went at seven in the morning to bring forth the prisoner, found him-dead in his bed! Never was the public curiosity so completely disappointed. Just as all were on the tip-toe of expectation, to learn that Morton had carried his secret to the grave! But it was not altogether so. About noon of the same day, as Mr. Parr was preparing to return to H- he received a visit from the chaplain of the prison, who placed in his hands a sealed package. Morton had not forgotten his promise. The package was addressed, "Richard Merville, now called Morton, to Charles Parr, formerly merchant in Liverpool."

It is necessary only to lay the connected part of the letter, divested of many incoherent passages, before the reader. There was a wild apostrophe to Night, and a parallel between its gloom and that which enwrapped his own spirit; a feverish foreboding of the dreariness of the narrow cell he was so soon to share with darkness and the worm; and a vague and shadowy vision of the world to come. Amid these dreamlike and desultory wanderings, however, he had kept steadily in view the wish expressed by his old friend.

"I know not," thus the manuscript continued, "why I feel a sort of satisfaction in this disclosure of my frightful crime and its strange punishment, unless from the same sense of duty that impelled me to make you the promise when we last met-met after a long