prison arrived. Upon due examination, he pronounced Mordaunt's disease to be typhus fever. When the clerk of the prison learned this fact, he communicated it to Mr. Mortimer by letter. That gentleman determined to respond to the clerk's letter by making Mordaunt a visit. He arrived at Auburn three days after the receipt of the letter, which had found him in New York.

"Good morning, Mr. Mortimer," said the clerk, as that gentleman entered his office at the prison. "You have called in consequence of my letter."

"How is Mordaunt ?" said Mr. Mortimer.

"No better," replied clerk.

vails that he cannot survive."

"The opinion pre

"Has he any idea of this himself?" asked Mr. Mortimer.

"Yes, sir. He has asked to see Sarah E. Graham. By the advice of the physician, she has been notified of his wish. She will, doubtless, arrive this afternoon, or to-morrow morning, if able to come. She is now with her mother. He has also expressed a desire to see Mary Wilcox and his daughter."

"Then he has acknowledged them at last," said Mr. Mortimer.

"Yes; and evidently some powerful motive has led to this result," said the clerk.

"What is the matter with him?" asked Mr. Mortimer.

"Typhus fever," said the clerk.

"How is he this morning?" said Mr. Mortimer. "Out of his head," replied the clerk. "He became flighty yesterday morning, and has been growing worse. This morning he is completely prostrated;

The hospital physician

seems to recognize no one. has invited a council of the city physicians, which is to convene in about half an hour."

"I am glad he has acknowledged that Mary Wilcox was his wife. That act of justice, although it has come at the eleventh hour, will give great pleasure to Mary," said Mr. Mortimer.

The council of physicians assembled soon after, and Mr. Mortimer was invited to be present. It was the general opinion that he could not survive. On the subseqent day, Sarah E. Graham arrived, accompanied by her mother. By the kindness of the agent, they were permitted to occupy a place within the prison, in his own family. Owing to Mordaunt's critical position, a separate room had been assigned to him.

Upon receiving news of his sickness, and the desire he had expressed, Mary Wilcox did not hesitate to accompany her uncle, Captain Joseph Horton, to Auburn. She arrived two days after Sarah Graham.

There had been no change for the better. Up to this time, Mordaunt had been entirely unconscious of the presence of any one in his room.

The tears of Sarah fell thick and fast as she entered the presence of one whom she had never ceased entirely to look upon with affection. But Sarah was now actuated through other feelings than those inspired by regret at his bodily sufferings. The idea that James Mordaunt was apparently about to die, with the weight of sin upon his soul unremoved by any sign or token of repentance, was the moving cause of her anguish. Sarah Graham had joined the pure of heart in this world of trial, and had devoted her

How ar

life to acts of kindness and benevolence. dently she offered up her secret prayer that reason might return to James Mordaunt, if but for one single hour! In this prayer she was joined by Mary Wilcox, who, since her divorce had dropped the name of Mordaunt. Notwithstanding the earnest appeals of Mary and Sarah, James Mordaunt was not permitted again to commune with his victims. On the eleventh day from the time he was first attacked, he expired. His last few moments were full of terrible agony. When every one present had supposed that he was gone, his body suddenly became gifted with a supernatural energy. He rose in bed, and opened his eyes, and in a loud voice, like the commander upon the battle-field, said—

"Brandy!"

Instantly a goblet of brandy was offered to him, of which he quickly and nervously drank. Then, looking fiercely upon those gathered around his bed, he spoke again with renewed energy:

"Is there a place called hell? Then I go there!"

A cold shiver ran over his frame. Once more he gasped for breath. The sudden flush which had accompanied this spasmodic strength as suddenly departed. Sinking again upon his pillow, a terrible tremor shook his frame, communicating with the bedstead and the room. Once more he gasped for. breath; but it was a last effort. Death put an end to his bodily sufferings. The spirit had gone before another tribunal. Was it that of an offended God?

Mr. Mortimer had the corpse removed to New

York, and placed in Mrs. Tryon's family vault.

Six months subsequently, Mrs. Tryon followed upon the same path, to that

"Bourn from whence no traveller returns."

She died a raving maniac in the lunatic asylum. Mary Mordaunt, while thus a little girl, became the sole heiress both to her father's estate and Mrs. Tryon's. Together, they amounted to nearly half a million. An attempt was made by some of the remote heirs to interrupt Mary Mordaunt's inheritance. It was never brought to trial.

LIII.

A Wedding-Wedding Tour-Conclusion.

LAWS, suz! never did see sich nobody knowin' nothin' sence I'se born. It's Bess here, an' Bess thar, an' Bess! Bess!"

"Bess," said James.

"Git eout! now, jest you 'tend to your own bizness. I'se 'bout tired ov this ere doin's."

"Bess, Bess," said Frederick Mortimer.

"Yis, sir," said Bess, as mildly as a kitten. "What Misser Frederick want?"

"Bell desires your presence up stairs immediately." "Bess," said Mrs. Mortimer, "there will be four more at dinner to-day."

"Yis 'um," said Bess, nearly in despair.

"Bess," said Mr. Mortimer, "five large glasses in the study, and a bottle of the brown sherry. Some ice, lemon, and sugar."

Mr. Mortimer, although a temperate man, prided himself upon his home-made sherry cobblers.

Bess now woke up to the demands made upon her. In a few moments she had marshalled the servants of the house, who were all amenable to her, and had given to each their directions. Out of the chaos, she soon brought order.