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On Saturday afternoon, Feb. 5th,—­still in Syracuse,—­I received a visit from Wm. S. King, Esq.  This gentleman is also a brother of Miss King.  His visit seemed to have about it at the outset somewhat of a stealthy character, and I confess I did not receive him with any great degree of cordiality.  He came on an errand, he said.  His sister desired to have an interview with me, and to that end she would meet me at the house of a friend about four miles from the village of Fulton.  The journey to this friend’s—­hers of four miles and mine of twenty or more—­he assured me must be conducted with the greatest possible secrecy; for should the Fulton people hear of it, the most disastrous results would follow.  His sister was very ill, he said—­was suffering intense anguish of mind—­had been confined to her chamber with bodily ailings—­had an eye also in a dreadful condition, the sight of which was in danger of being lost—­still, her anxiety to see me was so great that she had entreated to be taken even in this condition to the place aforesaid mentioned.

I understood this brother at once.  I was not to be trapped.  I had read human nature (so I think the result will justify me in saying) to a much better purpose than he.  I declined holding the interview at the time, on account, as I urged, of his sister’s feeble health and excited state of mind—­but would have no objection, I added, to such an interview some two or three weeks to come.  He then urged me to write, assuring me that he would take the letter willingly.  This also, I refused to do.  So at last he left me with the understanding that upon the recovery of his sister’s health, we should have an “interview.”

Mr. King returned immediately to Fulton, and on the Monday following, I received by post a letter from Miss King.  It was not in her own hand-writing—­she was too ill to write, but it was dictated to her sister.  Just as I expected, Miss King had found it necessary considering the influences against her, and that her relatives and the community would have left no means untried, however illegal or disgraceful to thwart her in her designs,—­nay, would have sworn her into a lunatic asylum rather than to have permitted her to marry me—­to consent that our engagement should be broken.  This letter was to announce the fact, while at the same time, it gave as the reason—­deference to the feelings of father and brothers.

Of course, I did not reply to the letter.  As the “Star” says—­I knew what I was about.

On Tuesday morning, February 8th, I published in the “Syracuse Standard” the following card:—­

  “TO THE PUBLIC.—­FROM PROFESSOR ALLEN.”

“So much has been said and written on the subject of the late affair at Fulton, that the Public by this time must have had nearly quantum sufficit; yet I deem it not improper on my own behalf to add a remark or two.  I shall not undertake to describe in detail, the murderous outrage intended to be inflicted on a quiet and unoffending man—­that is not of much consequence now.