Julian had been working his way through college at a factory and was close to graduation. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. Spurling: "I blush for you, Sir! To call yourself a man, and interfere with the natural course of affection! Have you no feeling for the situation of those poor disconsolate creatures, about to be bereaved of all they hold dear? Is it nothing to part with a husband to the gallows? I've lost four in the same way, and know what it is. Besides, she had admitted her identity.
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