as a tuft of laurels by the side of
the walk. I soon perceived Miss Vernon strolling down the avenue, arm in
arm with a young man elegantly dressed, and of singular, delicate
appearance. They were earnestly conversing in a low tone of voice; the
hand of my false fair one was gently pressed in the hand of the
stranger. As soon as they had passed the place of my concealment, they
turned aside and seated themselves in a little arbour, a few yards
distant from where I sat. The stranger clasped Miss Vernon in his arms:
"Dearest angel! he exclaimed, what an interruption to our bliss by the
return of my hated rival!" With fond caresses and endearing
blandishments, "fear nothing, she replied; I have promised and must
yield him my hand, but you shall never be excluded from my heart; we
shall find sufficient opportunities for private conference." I could
contain myself no longer--my brain was on fire. Quick as lightning I
sprang from my covert, and presenting a pistol which I had concealed
under my robe,--"Die! said I, thou false and perjured wretch, by the
hand thou hast dishonoured, a death too mild for so foul a crime!" and
immediately shot Miss Vernon through the head, who fell lifeless at my
feet! Then suddenly drawing my sword, "And thou, perfidious contaminator
and destroyer of my bliss! cried I--go! attend thy companion in iniquity
to the black regions of everlasting torment!" So saying, I plunged my
sword into his bosom. A screech of agony, attended by the exclamation,
"_Henry, your wife! your sister!_" awoke me, too late, to terrors
unutterable, to anguish unspeakable, to woes irretrievable, and
insupportable despair! It was indeed my betrothed wife, it was indeed my
affectionate sister, arrayed in man's habit. The one lay dead before me,
the other weltering in her blood! With a feeble and expiring voice, my
sister informed me, that in a gay and inconsiderate moment they had
concerted this plan, to try my jealousy, determining to discover
themselves as soon as they had made the experiment. "I forgive you,
Henry, she said, forgive your mistake," and closed her eyes for ever in
death! What a scene for sensibilities like mine! To paint or describe
it, exceeds the power of language or imagination. I instantly turned the
sword against my own bosom; an unknown hand arrested it, and prevented
its entering my heart. The report of the pistol, and the dying screech
of my sister, had alarmed Mr. Vernon's family, who arrived at that