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said Jack, “as if I had ever written any thing else than that. Why, all my letters were nothing else. No, my boy — this letter was very different. In the first place, I told her that I was desperate — then I assured her that I couldn’t live this way any longer, and I concluded with a proposal as desperate as my situation. And what do you think my proposal was?”
    â€œProposal? Why, marriage, of course; there is only one kind of proposal possible under such circumstances. But still that’s not much more than an engagement, dear boy, for an engagement means only the same thing, namely, marriage.”
    â€œOh, but this was far stronger — it was different, I can tell you, from any mere proposal of marriage. What do you think it was? Guess.”
    â€œCan’t. Haven’t an idea.”
    â€œWell,” said Jack —

Chapter 6 “I IMPLORED HER TO RUN AWAY WITH ME, AND HAVE A PRIVATE MARRIAGE, LEAVING THE REST TO FATE. AND I SOLEMNLY ASSURED HER THAT, IF SHE REFUSED, I WOULD BLOW MY BRAINS OUT ON HER DOOR-STEPS. — THERE, NOW! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?”
    Saying the above words, Jack leaned back, and surveyed me with the stern complacency of despair. After staring at me for some time, and evidently taking some sort of grim comfort out of the speechless-ness to which he had reduced me by his unparalleled narrative, he continued his confessions:
    â€œLast night, I made that infernal blunder with the widow — confound her! — that is, I mean of course, bless her! It’s all the same, you know. Today you behold the miserable state to which I am reduced. Tomorrow I will get a reply from her. Of course, she will consent to fly. I know very well how it will be. She will hint at some feasible mode, and some convenient time. She will, of course, expect me to settle it all up, from her timid little hints; and I must settle it up, and not break my faith with her, And now, Macrorie, I ask you, not merely as an officer and a gentleman, but as a man, a fellow Christian, and a sympathizing friend, what under Heaven am I to do?”
    He stopped, leaned back in his chair, lighted once more his extinguished pipe, and I could see through the dense volumes of smoke which he blew forth, his eyes fixed earnestly upon me, gleaming like two stars from behind gloomy storm-clouds.
    I sat in silence, and thought long and painfully over the situation. I could come to no conclusion, but I had to say some thing, and I said it.
    â€œPut it off,” said I at last, in a general state of daze.
    â€œPut what off?”
    â€œWhat? Why, the widow — no, the — the elopement, of course. Yes,” I continued, firmly, “put off the elopement.”
    â€œPut off the elopement!” ejaculated Jack. “What! after proposing it so desperately — after threatening to blow my brains out in front of her door?”
    â€œThat certainly is a consideration,” said I, thoughtfully; “but can’t you have — well, brain-fever — yes, that’s it, and can’t you get some friend to send word to her?”
    â€œThat’s all very well; but, you see, I’d have to keep my room. If I went out, she’d hear of it. She’s got a wonderful way of hearing about my movements. She’ll find out about the widow before the week’s over. Oh, no! that’s not to be done.”
    â€œWell, then,” said I, desperately, “let her find it out. The blow would then fall a little more gently.”
    â€œYou seem to me,” said Jack, rather huffily, “to propose that I should quietly proceed to break her heart. No! Hang it, man, if it comes to that I’ll do it openly, and make a clean breast of it, without shamming or keeping her in suspense.”
    â€œWell, then,” I responded, “why not break off with the widow?”
    â€œBreak off with the widow!” cried Jack, with the wondering accent of a man who has