composing　himself　for　the　interview。
  He　now　determined　to　make　the　process　of　informing　her　a　very　long
  one：　he　would　spin　it　out；　and　so　secure　many　a　sweet　interview
  with　her：　and；　who　knows？　he　might　fascinate　her　as　she　had　him；
  and　ripen　gratitude　into　love；　as　he　understood　that　word。
  He　called；　he　sent　in　his　card。　　The　man　went　in；　and　came　back
  with　a　sonorous　〃Not　at　home。〃
  〃Not　at　home？　nonsense。　　Why；　she　is　just　come　in　from　church。〃
  〃Not　at　home；〃　said　the　man；　evidently　strong　in　his　instructions。
  Falcon　turned　white　with　rage　at　this　second　affront。　　〃All　the
  worse　for　her；〃　said　he；　and　turned　on　his　heel。
  He　went　home；　raging　with　disappointment　and　wounded　vanity；　and
  since　such　love　as　his　is　seldom　very　far　from　hatehe　swore　she
  should　never　know　from　him　that　her　husband　was　alive。　　He　even
  moralized。　　〃This　comes　of　being　so　unselfish；〃　said　he。　　〃I'll
  give　that　game　up　forever。〃
  By　and　by；　a　mere　negative　revenge　was　not　enough　for　him；　and　he
  set　his　wits　to　work　to　make　her　smart。
  He　wrote　to　her　from　his　lodgings：
  DEAR　MADAM；What　a　pity　you　are　never　at　home　to　me。　　I　had
  something　to　say　about　your　husband；　that　I　thought　might　interest
  you。
  Yours　truly；
  R。　FALCON。
  Imagine　the　effect　of　this　abominable　note。　　It　was　like　a　rock
  flung　into　a　placid　pool。　　It　set　Rosa　trembling　all　over。　　What
  could　he　mean？
  She　ran　with　it　to　her　father；　and　asked　him　what　Mr。　Falcon　could
  mean。
  〃I　have　no　idea；〃　said　he。　　〃You　had　better　ask　him；　not　me。〃
  〃I　am　afraid　it　is　only　to　get　to　see　me。　　You　know　he　admired　me
  once。　　Ah；　how　suspicious　I　am　getting。〃
  Rosa　wrote　to　Falcon：
  DEAR　SIR；Since　my　bereavement　I　see　scarcely　anybody。　　My　servant
  did　not　know　you；　so　I　hope　you　will　excuse　me。　　If　it　is　too　much
  trouble　to　call　again；　would　you　kindly　explain　your　note　to　me？
  Yours　respectfully；
  ROSA　STAINES。
  Falcon　chuckled　bitterly　over　this。　　〃No；　my　lady；〃　said　he。　　〃I'll
  serve　you　out。　　You　shall　run　after　me　like　a　little　dog。　　I　have
  got　the　bone　that　will　draw　you。〃
  He　wrote　back　coldly　to　say　that　the　matter　he　had　wished　to
  communicate　was　too　delicate　and　important　to　put　on　paper；　that　he
  would　try　and　get　down　to　Gravesend　again　some　day　or　other；　but
  was　much　occupied；　and　had　already　put　himself　to　inconvenience。
  He　added；　in　a　postscript；　that　he　was　always　at　home　from　four　to
  five。
  Next　day　he　got　hold　of　the　servant；　and　gave　her　minute
  instructions；　and　a　guinea。
  Then　the　wretch　got　some　tools　and　bored　a　hole　in　the　partition
  wall　of　his　sitting…room。　　The　paper　had　large　flowers。　　He　was
  artist　enough　to　conceal　the　trick　with　water…colors。　　In　his　bed…
  room　the　hole　came　behind　the　curtains。
  That　very　afternoon；　as　he　had　foreseen；　Mrs。　Staines　called　on
  him。　　The　maid；　duly　instructed；　said　Mr。　Falcon　was　out；　but　would
  soon　return；　and　could　she　wait　his　return？　　The　maid　being　so　very
  civil；　Mrs。　Staines　said　she　would　wait　a　little　while；　and　was
  immediately　ushered　into　Falcon's　sitting…room。　　There　she　sat
  down；　but　was　evidently　ill　at　ease；　restless；　flushed。　　She　could
  not　sit　quiet；　and　at　last　began　to　walk　up　and　down　the　room；
  almost　wildly。　　Her　beautiful　eyes　glittered；　and　the　whole　woman
  seemed　on　fire。　　The　caitiff；　who　was　watching　her；　saw　and　gloated
  on　all　this；　and　enjoyed　to　the　full　her　beauty　and　agitation；　and
  his　revenge　for　her　〃Not　at　homes。〃
  But　after　a　long　time；　there　was　a　reaction：　she　sat　down　and
  uttered　some　plaintive　sounds　inarticulate；　or　nearly；　and　at　last
  she　began　to　cry。
  Then　it　cost　Falcon　an　effort　not　to　come　in　and　comfort　her；　but
  he　controlled　himself　and　kept　quiet。
  She　rang　the　bell。　　She　asked　for　writing　paper；　and　she　wrote　her
  unseen　tormentor　a　humble　note；　begging　him；　for　old　acquaintance；
  to　call　on　her；　and　tell　her　what　his　mysterious　words　meant　that
  had　filled　her　with　agitation。
  This　done；　she　went　away；　with　a　deep　sigh；　and　Falcon　emerged；　and
  pounced　upon　her　letter。
  He　kissed　it；　he　read　it　a　dozen　times：　he　sat　down　where　she　had
  sat；　and　his　base　passion　overpowered　him。　　Her　beauty；　her
  agitation；　her　fear；　her　tears；　all　combined　to　madden　him；　and　do
  the　devil's　work　in　his　false；　selfish　heart；　so　open　to　violent
  passions；　so　dead　to　conscience。
  For　once　in　his　life　he　was　violently　agitated；　and　torn　by
  conflicting　feelings：　he　walked　about　the　room　more　wildly　than　his
  victim　had；　and　if　it　be　true　that；　in　certain　great　temptations；
  good　and　bad　angels　fight　for　a　man；　here　you　might　have　seen　as
  fierce　a　battle　of　that　kind　as　ever　was。
  At　last　he　rushed　out　into　the　air；　and　did　not　return　till　ten
  o'clock　at　night。　　He　came　back　pale　and　haggard；　and　with　a　look
  of　crime　upon　his　face。
  True　Bohemian　as　he　was；　he　sent　for　a　pint　of　brandy。
  So　then　the　die　was　cast；　and　something　was　to　be　done　that　called
  for　brandy。
  He　bolted　himself　in；　and　drank　a　wine…glass　of　it　neat；　then
  another；　then　another。
  Now　his　pale　cheek　is　flushed；　and　his　eye　glitters。　　Drink
  forever！　great　ruin　of　English　souls　as　well　as　bodies。
  He　put　the　poker　in　the　fire；　and　heated　it　red　hot。
  He　brought　Staines's　letter；　and　softened　the　sealing…wax　with　the
  hot　poker；　then　with　his　pen…knife　made　a　neat　incision　in　the　wax；
  and　opened　the　letter。　　He　took　out　the　ring；　and　put　it　carefully
  away。　　Then　he　lighted　a　cigar；　and　read　the　letter；　and　studied
  it。　　Many　a　man；　capable　of　murder　in　heat　of　passion；　could　not
  have　resisted　the　pathos　of　this　letter。　　Many　a　Newgate　thief；
  after　reading　it；　would　have　felt　such　pity　for　the　loving　husband
  who　had　suffered　to　the　verge　of　death；　and　then　to　the　brink　of
  madness；　and　for　the　poor　bereaved　wife；　that　he　would　have　taken
  the　letter　down　to　Gravesend　that　very　night；　though　he　picked　two
  fresh　pockets　to　defray　the　expenses　of　the　road。
  But　this　was　an　egotist。　　Good　nature　had　curbed　his　egotism　a
  little　while；　but　now　vanity　and　passion　had　swept　away　all
  unselfish　feelings；　and　the　pure　egotist　alone　remained。
  Now；　the　pure　egotist　has　been　defined　as　a　man　who　will　burn　down
  his　NEIGHBOR'S　house　to　cook　HIMSELF　an　egg。　　Murder　is　but　egotism
  carried　out　to　its　natural　climax。　　What　is　murder　to　a　pure
  egotist；　especially　a　brandied　one？
  I　knew　an　egotist　who　met　a　female　acquaintance　in　Newhaven
  village。　　She　had　a　one…pound　note；　and　offered　to　treat　him。　　She
  changed　this　note　to　treat　him。　　Fish　she　gave　him；　and　much
  whiskey。　　Cost　her　four　shillings。　　He　ate　and　drank　with　her；　at
  her　expense；　and　his　aorta；　or　principal　blood…vessel；　being　warmed
  with　her　whiskey；　he　murdered　her　for　the　change；　the　odd　sixteen
  shillings。
  I　had　the　pleasure　of　seeing　that　egotist　hung；　with　these　eyes。
  It　was　a　slice　of　luck　that；　I　grieve　to　say；　has　not　occurred
  again　to　me。
  So　much　for　a　whiskied　egotist。
  His　less　truculent　but　equally　remorseless　brother　in　villany；　the
  brandied　egotist；　Falcon；　could　read　that　poor　husband's　letter
  without　blenching；　the　love　and　the　anticipations　of　rapture；　these
  made　him　writhe　a　little　with　jealousy；　but　they　roused　not　a　grain
  of　pity。　　He　was　a　true　egotist；　blind；　remorseless。
  In　this；　his　true　character；　he　studied　the　letter　profoundly；　and
  mastered　all　the　facts；　and　digested　them　well。
  All　manner　of　diabolical　artifices　presented　themselves　to　his
  brain；　barren　of　true　intellect；　yet　fertile　in　fraud；　in　that；　and
  all　low　cunning　and　subtlety；　far　more　than　a　match　for　Solomon　or
  Bacon。
  His　sinister　studies　were　pursued　far　into　the　night。　　Then　he　went
  to　bed；　and　his　unbounded　egotism　gave　him　the　sleep　a　grander
  criminal　would　have　courted　in　vain　on　the　verge　of　a　monstrous　and
  deliberate　crime。
  Next　day　he　went　to　a　fashionable　tailor；　and　ordered　a　complete
  suit　of　black。　　This　was　made　in　forty…eight　hours；　the　interval
  was　spent　mainly　in　concocting　lies　to　be　incorporated　with　the
  number　of　minute　facts　he　had　gained　from　Staines's　letter；　and　in
  making　close　imitations　of　his　handwriting。
  Thus　armed；　and　crammed　with　more　lies　than　the　〃Menteur〃　of
  Corneille；　but　not　such　innocent　ones；　he　went　down　to　Gravesend；
  all　in　deep　mourning；　with　crape　round　his　hat。
  He　presented　himself　at　the　villa。
  The　servant　was　all　obsequiousness。　　Yes；　Mrs。　Staines　received　few
  visitors；　but　she　was　at　home　to　HIM。　　He　even　began　to　falter
  excuses。　　〃Nonsense；〃　said　Falcon；　and　slipped　a　sovereign　into　his
  hand；　〃you　are　a　good　servant；　and　obey　orders。〃
  The　servant's　respect　doubled；　and　he　ushered　the　visitor　into　the
  drawing…room；　as　one　whose　name　was　a　passport。　　〃Mr。　Reginald
  Falcon；　madam。〃
  Mrs。　Staines　was　alone。　　She　rose　to　meet　him。　　Her　color　came　and
  went；　her　full　eye　fell　on　him；　and　took　in　all　at　a　glancethat
  he　was　all　in　black；　and　that　he　had　a　beard；　and　looked　pale；　and
  ill　at　ease。
  Little　dreaming　that　this　was　the　anxiety　of　a　felon　about　to　take
  the　actual　plunge　into　a　novel　crime；　she　was　rather　prepossessed
  by　it。　　The　beard　gave　him　dignity；　and　hid　his　mean；　cruel　mouth。
  His　black　suit　seemed　to　say　he；　too；　had　lost　some　one　dear　to
  him；　and　that　was　a　ground