CHAPTER LXXVI.
THE CONFESSION.
After a few moments the men went out and left Mellen alone with the suicide—in his excitement Mellen forgot Elsie's presence, and the dreadful state she was in.
"I am dying," said Ford; "I may live the night out—it don't matter! You are glad to see my blood run—that's natural enough! Man, man, the torment I go to isn't half as bad as that I shall leave behind for you."
"Say quickly what you wish," exclaimed Mellen, forgetting even his hatred in the dreadful picture his enemy made, his garments red with blood, his face pale with the death agony, distorted with baffled rage and hate. "I believe nothing you say—you cannot move me."
"So be it," said the man. "These fellows have tied my hands—put yours in my coat pocket—you'll find three letters, a paper and a roll of money."
Mellen obeyed, shuddering to feel the blood drops warm on his fingers as he drew forth the package.
"Read them," said Ford, briefly.
Mellen opened one after another of the epistles and read—they were in Elsie's writing—they proved the truth of the villain's assertions. The smaller paper was a marriage certificate. The roll of bills—each note for a thousand dollars—was the price of Elizabeth's bonds.
Mellen staggered back with one heartbroken cry.