r to him he said, "Isn't Julia Middleton to
be married tonight?"

"She is," answered his mother.

"At what hour?"

"At seven."

"What time is it now?"

"Half-past six," replied Mrs. Dunn.

"It must not be," said Joseph, and turning to Bill he added, "listen,
William, to what I have to tell, then speed along on the lightning's wing,
and tear her from the altar--take her from his side, I say, and put there
the other one, the pale, golden-haired one"; then, as he noticed the
vacant look on Bill's face, he added, "oh, no, you can't tell it. You
wouldn't understand it. Mother, bring me a pen and some paper."

The paper was brought, and as soon as possible Joseph wrote a confession
of his own and Julia's guilt. "Now, Bill," said he, "run for your life,
and give this to Dr. Lacey. Do it for the sake of Fanny."

Bill needed no second bidding. His obtuse intellect had gathered that in
some way Fanny was in danger, and away he flew over bushes, briers, rocks
and ditches. But alas! The way was long and dark, and ere he was aware of
it, he was precipitated into one of the sink holes which are so common in
the limestone soil of Kentucky. The fall sprained his ankle, but gathering
himself up, he continued on, slowly and painfully.

Meantime delirium had again crept over Joseph Dunn, and he forgot that he
sent Billy, but concluded he must go himself. Watching a time when his
mother was from the room, he rose, and throwing on his double gown, went
forth into the storm, and was soon far on his road toward Mr. Middleton.

-------------------------------------

The man of God had scarcely finished the second paragraph of the Episcopal
ceremony, beginning with, "I require and charge you both," etc., when a
shriek, wild and unearthly and horrid, rent the air. It was succeeded by a
thunder crash so deafening that the ladies paled with terror. The large
maple tree, which stood by the front door, and which Julia had called
hers, was shivered by lightning, but no one heeded it, for again was heard
that fearful, maniacal shriek, and this time could be distinguished the
sound as of some one struggling with the blacks, who were huddled together
in the hall.

"Let me go, I tell you," said the voice. "It shall not go on!"

All eyes turned toward the door, as Joseph Dunn appeared, shouting, "Stop
it! Stop it! She forged those letters. She broke her sister's heart. Stop
it, I say!" Every person in the room seemed terro