The Final Blow.

It was a deadly blow! A blow like that

Which swooping unawares from out the night,

Dashes a man from some high starlit peak

Into a void of cold and hurrying waves.

The distrust which I felt for Mrs. Pollard was so great that I was still uncertain as to whether she had given me the right address. I therefore proceeded to carry out my original design and went at once to the telegraph-office. The message I sent was peremptory and in the course of half an hour this answer was returned.

Person described, found. Condition critical. Come at once.

There was a train that left in fifteen minutes. Though I had just come from Boston, I did not hesitate to return at once. By six o’clock of that day I stood before the house to which I had been directed. My first sight of it struck me like death. God, what was I about to encounter! What sort of a spot was this, and what was the doom that had befallen the child committed to my care. Numb with horror, I rang the door-bell with difficulty, and when I was admitted by a man in the guise of an officer, I felt something like an instantaneous relief, though I saw by his countenance that he had any thing but good news to give me.

“Are you the gentleman who telegraphed from S——?” he asked.

I bowed, not feeling able to speak.

“Relative or friend?” he went on.

“Friend,” I managed to reply.

“Do you guess what has happened?” he inquired.

“I dare not,” I answered, with a fearful look about me on walls that more than confirmed my suspicions.

“Miss Merriam is dead,” he answered.

I drew a deep breath. It was almost a relief.

“Come in,” he said, and opened the door of a room at our right. When we were seated and I had by careful observation made sure we were alone, I motioned for him to go on. He immediately complied. “When we received your telegram, we sent a man here at once. He had some difficulty in entering and still more in finding the young lady, who was hidden in the most remote part of the house. But by perseverance and some force he at last obtained entrance to her room where he found — pardon my abruptness, it will be a mercy to you for me to cut the story short — that he had been ordered here too late; the young lady had taken poison and was on the point of death.”

The horror in my face reflected itself faintly in his.

“I do not know how she came to this house,” he proceeded; “but she must have been a person of great purity and courage; for though she died almost immediately upon his entrance, she had time to say that she had preferred death to the fate that threatened her, and that no one would mourn her for she had no friends in this country, and her father would never hear how she died.”

I sprang wildly to my feet.

“Did she mention no names?” I asked.

“Did she not say who brought her to this hell of hells, or murmur even with her dying breath, one word that would guide us in fixing this crime upon the head of her who is guilty of it?”

“No,” answered the officer, “no; but you are right in thinking it was a woman, but what woman, the creature below evidently does not know.”

Feeling that the situation demanded thought, I composed myself to the best of my ability.

“I am the Rev. David Barrows of S— — ” said I, “and my interest in this young girl is purely that of a humanitarian. I have never seen her. I do not even know how long she has been in this country. But I learned that a girl by the name of Grace Merriam had been beguiled from her boarding-place here in this city, and fearing that some terrible evil had befallen her, I telegraphed to the police to look her up.”

The officer bowed.

“The number of her boarding-place?” asked he.

I told him, and not waiting for any further questions, demanded if I might not see the body of the young girl.

He led me at once to the room in which it lay, and stood respectfully at the door while I went in alone. The sight I saw has never left me. Go where I will, I see ever before me that pure............