r the table, almost unconscious.
Surprise at his sudden vanishing-act so startled everybody that a
momentary silence ensued, in which sounded sharply the ringing of the
front-door bell. Honey instinctively jumped up to answer the summons,
but was promptly recalled by his quick-witted wife to a proper
realization of his altered social condition. That poised heel came down
with such vigor on his toes that he howled with pain.

"Do that 'ere just once more," he yelled, savagely, "han' I'll cut loose
from you for good."

"You never can hear a bell ring but you want to run and answer it," she
retorted, in an undertone.

At this juncture, Sam, the old darkey factotum, shambled in with a card,
for which Honey, in his pain and confusion, unthinkingly stretched out
his hand. Sam gave it to him and left the room.

"Who is it? Who is it?" demanded several voices.

"Read it out, Mr. Honey," called Mrs. Wildfen.

"I cawn't, ma'am; hit's writin', an' I cawn't read writin'."

"William!" cried Mrs. Honey, in an awful voice, snatching the card from
him and again bringing down that merciless heel upon his already aching
toes. Honey sprang to his feet with a cry of anger and pain,
half-threatening and half-whining--the vocal outcome of his divided
emotions--proclaiming:

"That settles it. I told you I would if you did it wunst more. 'Arriet,
I said I would, and I will. I'm a-goin', for wunst and hallways."

As he dashed out of the room, with a ludicrous limp, there was a general
cry of "Come back, Honey! come back!" But Mrs. Honey arose and, though
very pale, said with much dignity:

"Oblige me, ladies and gentlemen, by letting him go. I deserve this
public desertion for my folly in marrying my inferior. The name on the
card is '_Mrs. Plowden_.'"

A blood-curdling groan nearly froze the blood in the veins of the
guests. It came from under the table, whence, simultaneously with it,
emerged Plowden, to whom terror lent instant animation and activity.

"My wife!" he breathed, huskily.

"Your wife!" exclaimed Gertrude. "Then it is true! You are a bigamist!"

"Yes! No! She's dead! Save me from her!" he cried incoherently, rushing
to the French window overlooking the lawn and throwing it open. "You
will forgive me, Gertrude," he declaimed, with his foot upon the
window-sill, "when the black waters are surging over my head. Farewell!
Farewell forever!" And leaping out into the darkness, he was gone.

"Stop him! stop him, someon