of the bed, to creep noiselessly from the room, and then to trust to Providence for escape.  In order to facilitate this scheme, I removed all the lumber which I had heaped against the door; and I had nearly completed my arrangements, when I perceived the room suddenly darkened, by the close approach of some shadowy object to the window.  On turning my eyes in that direction, I observed at the top of the casement, as if suspended from above, first the feet, then the legs, then the body, and at length the whole figure of a man present itself.  It was Edward Tyrrell.  He appeared to be guiding his descent so as to bring his feet upon the centre of the stone block which occupied the lower part of the window; and having secured his footing upon this, he kneeled down and began to gaze into the room.  As the moon was gleaming into the chamber, and the bed-curtains were drawn, he was able to distinguish the bed itself and its contents.  He appeared satisfied with his scrutiny, for he looked up and made a sign with his hand.  He then applied his hands to the window-frame, which must have been ingeniously contrived for the purpose, for with apparently no resistance the whole frame, containing casement and all, slipped from its position in the wall, and was by him lowered into the room.  The cold night wind waved the bed-curtains, and he paused for a moment; all was still again, and he stepped in upon the floor of the room.  He held in his hand what appeared to be a steel instrument, shaped something like a long hammer.  This he held rather behind him, while, with three long, tip-toe strides, he brought himself to the bedside.  I felt that the discovery must now be made, and held my breath in momentary expectation of the execration in which he would vent his surprise and disappointment.  I closed my eyes; there was a pause, but it was a short one.  I heard two dull blows, given in rapid succession; a quivering sigh, and the long-drawn, heavy breathing of the sleeper was for ever suspended.  I unclosed my eyes, and saw the murderer fling the quilt across the head of his victim; he then, with the instrument of death still in his hand, proceeded to the lobby-door, upon which he tapped sharply twice or thrice.  A quick step was then heard approaching, and a voice whispered something from without.  Edward answered, with a kind of shuddering chuckle, “Her ladyship is past complaining; unlock the door, in the devil’s name, unless you’re afraid to come in, and help me to lift her out of the window.”  The key was turned in the lock, the door opened, and my uncle entered the room.  I have told you already that I had placed myself under the shade of a projection of the wall, close to the door.  I had instinctively shrunk down cowering towards the ground on the entrance of Edward through the window.  When my uncle entered the room, he and his son both stood so very close to me that his hand was every moment upon the point of touching my face.  I held my breath, and remained motionless as death.