198
The Fatal Marksman.
me?” More he had no power to utter; for he sank insensible to the ground close by his bleeding bride.
The commissioner and the priest sought vainly to speak comfort to the desolate parents. Scarce had the aged mother laid the ominous funeral garland upon the bosom of her daughter’s corps, when she wept away the last tears of her unfathonable grief. The solitary father soon followed her. William, the Fatal Marksman, wore away his days in the mad-house.
