were making their way to a magistrate's when
their attention was attracted by a crowd. A workman, digging for
limestone, had unearthed a big wooden chest. The chest contained a
skeleton!

In the midst of the commotion caused by this discovery a voice broke out
abruptly. It was that of Richard Houseman. His journey had been in vain.
His daughter was dead. His appearance revealed all too plainly to what
source he had flown for consolation.

"What do ye here, fools?" he cried, reeling forward. "Ha! Human bones!
And whose may they be, think ye?"

There were in the crowd those who remembered the disappearance which had
so surprised them years before, and more than one repeated the name of
"Daniel Clarke."

"Clarke's bones!" exclaimed Houseman. "Ha, ha! They are no more Clarke's
than mine!"

At this moment Walter stepped forward.

"Behold!" he cried, in a ringing voice, vibrant with emotion--"behold
the murderer!"

Pale, confused, conscience-stricken, the bewilderment of intoxication
mingling with that of fear, Houseman gasped out that if they wanted the
bones of Clarke they should search St. Robert's Cave. And in the place
he named they found at last the unhallowed burial-place of the murdered
dead.

But Houseman, now roused by a sense of personal danger, denied that he
was the guilty man. Drawing his breath hard, and setting his teeth as
with steeled determination, he cried, "The murderer is Eugene Aram!"

_VI.--"I Murdered my Own Life"_

It was a chill morning in November. But at Grassdale all was bustle and
excitement. The church bells were ringing merry peals. It wanted but an
hour or so to the wedding of Eugene Aram and Madeline Lester. In this
interval the scholar was alone with his thoughts. His reverie was rudely
disturbed by a loud knocking, the noise of which penetrated into his
study. The outer door was opened. Voices were heard.

"Great God!" he exclaimed. "'Murderer!' Was that the word I heard
shouted forth? The voice, too, is Walter Lester's. Can he have
learned----"

Calm succeeded to the agitation of the moment. He met the newcomers with
a courageous front. But, followed by his bride who was to be, by her
sister Ellinor, and by their father, all confident that Walter had made
some horrible mistake, Eugene Aram was taken away to be committed to
York on the capital charge.

The law's delays were numerous. Winter passed into spring, and spring
into summer before the trial came on. Eugene Ar