"Enough has happened," returned he, "if all Martha Pinkerton has just been telling me is true."
"Where did you see her?" asked Mrs. Salsify.
"She came into the store to-night to buy a chunk of cheese; so I asked her what was the news? when she told me of the awfulest tragedy that occurred at Col. Malcome's the night they undertook to get Florence Howard married to the colonel's son."
"O, mercy, who was killed?" exclaimed Mrs. S., with uplifted hands.
"Nobody as I know of," returned Mr. Mumbles, whose ideas of a tragedy were different from those of his good wife; "but then the whole company might have been, for they had a murderer amongst them."
"Mercy to me, how awful!" said Mrs. Salsify. "What was his name and how did he get there?"
"His name was Col. Malcome, and he got there by his own wickedness."
"You don't mean to tell me that handsome Col. Malcome is a murderer!" exclaimed Mrs. Salsify, with terror depicted on her features.
"Yes I do, and worse than that; he burned Major Howard's house, and tried to get his pretty daughter married to her own brother."
"How can Rufus Malcome be a brother to Florence Howard?" asked Mrs. Mumbles, in amaze. "You are talking nonsense to me, I fear."