caught that they had to fly from the state, and take refuge in Taylor's hotel in Jersey City.
"It seems that during their temporary exile beyond the state, Gould sought a private interview one night with the commodore, in the hope of bringing about conciliatory measures.
"The commodore conversed freely for some time but in the midst of his conversation he seemed to be suddenly seized with a fainting spell, and rolled from his seat onto the carpet, where he lay motionless and apparently breathless.
"Mr. Gould's first impulse was to go to the door and summon aid, but he found it locked and no key in it. This increased his alarm and he became greatly agitated. He shook the prostrate form of the commodore, but the latter was limp and motionless. Once there was a heavy sigh and a half-suffocated breathing, as if it were the last act of respiration. Immediately afterward the commodore was still and remained in this condition for nearly half an hour. Doubtless this was one of the most anxious half hours that ever Mr. Gould has experienced.
"If I were permitted to indulge in the latitude of the ordinary storyteller, I might here draw a harassing picture of Mr. Gould's internal emotions, gloomy prospects in a criminal court and dark forebodings. His prolific brain would naturally be racked to find a plausible explanation in the event of the commodore's death, which had occurred while they were the sole occupants of the room; and at that time, in the eyes of the public, they were bitter enemies.
