s gone; and revenge, they said, would not
bring her back. Their chief solace was to visit and linger in the
church-yard--their chief hope to abide there.

To discover the murderer, and drag him to justice, soon occupied the
attention, not only of the authorities, but of many active men in the
village. Rigorous inquiries were instituted, every scrap of evidence was
collected, and suspicion fell at length upon one man. This individual
was, to appearance, about thirty years of age, of a thoughtful
disposition, and retired mode of life. He had been settled in the
village for several years; and no sooner was the suspicion raised, than
many circumstances were bruited to confirm it. His general conduct and
bearing were remarked to have been mysterious. He had rarely associated
with his neighbours; and had often been observed, in lonely places and
at silent hours, muttering and musing, by himself. For some time back,
he had been noticed watching the deceased, and following her whenever
she had any distance to go; and the general belief was, that she had
crossed his affections, and that he had taken this cowardly revenge. On
the evening of the murder, he had been seen returning home only a few
minutes after the time when the deed must have been perpetrated, and his
air and manner were said to have been wild and agitated. The consequence
was, that he was apprehended and thrown into prison. In a few months
afterwards, he was tried. In his defence, he stated that the unfortunate
girl had rather encouraged his suit than otherwise; and mentioned, in
proof of this, that Merrideth, whose grief for her loss had excited
general commiseration, had on the very afternoon of the day on which the
murder took place, quarrelled him on the subject, and accused him of
seeking him to supplant him in her affections. Ultimately, a verdict of
not proven was returned, and he was dismissed from the court.

Jones--for such was his name--returned to the village; but the suspicion
still clung to him. As he went through the streets, the people avoided
him, or gazed at him as a world's wonder. Wherever he passed, they spoke
to each other in whispers. These whispers he seldom heard, but the
thought of their import haunted him. He was restless and unhappy, and
sought relief in motion. No sooner was the sun risen, than he was up and
away to the fields. He wandered about alone for hours, and then came
back to the village. He felt as if a curse rested on him; a