ex-secretary made a barely-perceptible bow, and, drawing out his watch, significantly turned the face towards his debtor.  It was enough; there was no need of words.  It was a little after ten o’clock; the fatal letter would be delivered at eleven!  Fletcher crossed the street and accosted Sandford, though not without trepidation; for he shuddered like a swimmer within reach of a shark, as he encountered those cold and pitiless eyes.

“Come to the office, Mr. Sandford, at eleven,” he said.  “The affair will be settled then, and forever.”

Mr. Sandford nodded and walked on.  Fletcher, meanwhile, quivering with agony, hurried to his employer’s office.  He scanned each face sharply as he entered, and felt sure that the loss had not yet been discovered.  Going to his desk, he wrote and sealed a letter, and then went out, saying he had some business with a lawyer overhead.

Mrs. Fletcher grew momently more uneasy, after her husband left the house.  A vague sense of coming evil oppressed her, until at length she could bear it no longer; she left her child with the servant, and, walking to the nearest stand, took a coach for State Street.  On the way she recalled again and again the muttered words she heard during the night; she thought of the silent, comfortless breakfast, the hurried good-bye; she felt again the pressure of his trembling lips upon her own.  Full of apprehension, she asked the coachman to call her husband to the door.  Answer was made by a clerk that Mr. Fletcher was out on business, but was expected back presently.  So she waited, looking out of the carriage-window,—­a sad face to see!  The hands of the Old State-House clock pointed at eleven, when Mr. Sandford punctually made his appearance,—­smooth, cheerful, and with a slight exhilaration, in prospect of the two thousand dollars.  Almost at the same moment Bullion came also; for Tonsor, fearing that Fletcher would take some desperate step, had been to the surly bankrupt’s house and insisted upon his coming down to see his unfortunate agent.  Just at the office-door, and opposite the carriage, met the two bankrupts, the disgraced “bull” and the vanquished “bear.”  It was an odd look of recognition that was exchanged between them; and if there was a shade of triumph in Sandford’s face, it was not to be wondered at.  They stood at the door, each motioning the other to enter first, when an unusual sound from the adjoining entry caused both of them to stop, and one of them, at least, to shiver.  It was a sound of slow and hesitating, shuffling steps, as of men carrying a burden.  The steps came nearer.  Both Bullion and Sandford moved hurriedly to the spot.  The men stopped in the doorway with their burden, and in a moment, with frantic shrieks, Mrs. Fletcher rushed in and fell upon the body of her husband!

“Good God! what’s this?” exclaimed Bullion.  “Dead?” He stooped down and thrust his hand under the waistcoat.  The heart was still!  He shuddered convulsively and drew back, covering his eyes.  “Dead!”