"I must overcome this nervousness, and drown these thoughts with brandy—not with water, as poor Mary did hers."
He hastily quaffed a glass of liquor, and the color returned to his face. Then he spoke rapidly to himself.
"I must go! The suicide of Mary Harris being discovered, her father will seek my life. Alden has returned. Now I must be the fugitive."
During the night he wrote several letters, rising at intervals and pacing the room in great agitation. Occasionally lying down, he tried to drive distracting thoughts from his mind, but sleep refused to respond to his summons. Toward morning he packed a trunk and valise, intending to take them with him.
Daylight arriving and the household astir, Mrs. Culver was amazed at hearing him moving about in his room. Going to his door she rapped, and being admitted expressed much surprise at his presence in the house. He only said the wedding had been postponed, but as the good woman observed the ghastly expression upon the face of her master, she knew something had occurred which he did not wish to divulge.
Mannis partook of a light breakfast, and at nine o'clock, his trunk and valise having been placed in the carriage, he bade Mrs. Culver good-by, and said:
"I may be absent a fortnight."
As he stepped into the carriage, farmer Harris, bareheaded, with his face full of rage, suddenly appeared before him, and, pulling a pistol from his pocket, said:
"You miserable wretch, prepare to die! My poor daughter's body lies in yonder house, and you are her murderer. May the devil take your soul!"
There was a flash, followed by a sharp report, and the "Honorable" Walter Mannis fell back in his carriage. Mary Harris was avenged, as far as the death of a deliberate villain can avenge the destruction of a pure woman's life.