The servant approached the sofa where Lord Glenfallen lay. He leant his ear towards the head of the recumbent figure, to ascertain whether the sound of breathing was audible. He turned towards us, and said:
“My lady, you had better not wait here; I am sure he is dead!”
“Let me see the face,” said I, terribly agitated; “you may be mistaken.”
The man then, in obedience to my command, turned the body round, and, gracious God! what a sight met my view.
The whole breast of the shirt, with its lace frill, was drenched with his blood, as was the couch underneath the spot where he lay.
The head hung back, as it seemed, almost severed from the body by a frightful gash, which yawned across the throat. The razor which had inflicted the wound was found under his body.
All, then, was over; I was never to learn the history in whose termination I had been so deeply and so tragically involved.
The severe discipline which my mind had undergone was not bestowed in vain. I directed my thoughts and my hopes to that place where there is no more sin, nor danger, nor sorrow.
Thus ends a brief tale whose prominent incidents many will recognize as having marked the history of a distinguished family; and though it refers to a somewhat distant date, we shall be found not to have taken, upon that account, any liberties with the facts.
THE END.