Mrs. Horton’s maid, Alice, came home
With the keys. She left the window open
When she went to the corner for food.
I took unfair advantage—thus experience has taught me—
Climbed in at the first opportunity.
I hid in her bedroom—the only door that was open.
After all I had suffered
Perhaps Jack would come back
And then my troubles be over.
For the first time in months
I slept without fear and in comfort....
It must have been after midnight
When Old Horton came in. It was pitch dark
So he couldn’t see me. It gave me uncanny pleasure
To follow him. He stole up to Alice’s room
As if a hundred were watching. The door remained
Gaping to the empty house and—me.
Presently Alice screamed and the harrowing sound
Frightens me even now.
Horton went back to his room
And the house resumed its stillness.
I sat on the floor by his bed
Lulled by his heavy breathing....
Out of the darkness there gleamed
A flash from the crack of a pistol.
Alice was fully dressed and quietly turned on her heel;
Left the house by the basement; walked to the corner
And river; threw something deep in its water; then back
To the house where she’d killed him—
Leaving the front door open.... I followed her up to her room
Where she undressed and went back to bed....
Dead in his they found Horton,
And on his tomb they inscribed:
“A Loving Father and Devoted Husband.”