23
stood at some distance from him. It was Jane! Again she repeated his name, and, with a heavy sigh, vanished from his view! The hour that this event occured was explained; and Mr Arnold had every reason to suppose that it was the one in which the hapless fair one died, as it was on the same day in which she was found a lifeless corpse in her much loved grove.
The loss of his father’s fortune did not in the least affect the youth; nor would he accept that part of it which Mr Arnold, and the husband of Rosetta, generously offered him. No, money he valued not. The death of Jane, through his cruelty, lay heavy at his heart; also his father’s dying in displeasure with him. He frequently declared that he had brought with him more money from India than would last the remaining term of his life. He hired a small cottage in the vicinity of Rosewood, where he resided in a manner not far removed from the life of a hermit. Every night at the drear hour of twelve, he wandered round a moss-grown tower, where the ghost of Crazy Jane was said to appear, and tell to the moon a tale of woe. After pursuing this course of life for several months, Henry imbibed a danegerous melancholy, that prompted him to commit the dreadful act of suicide. On the grave of his Jane, the youth shed his heart’s blood, aud rushed unbidden into the presence of his Maker. The Coroner and his Jury declared him a maniac; and he was buried beneath the
