I landed in a few minutes on the
Jersey shore. "This scheme being frustrated, I sunk into dreariness and inactivity. I
felt as if no dependence could be placed upon my courage, as if any
effort I should make for self-destruction would be fruitless; yet
existence was as void as ever of enjoyment and embellishment. My means
of living were annihilated. I saw no path before me. To shun the
presence of mankind was my sovereign wish. Since I could not die by my
own hands, I must be content to crawl upon the surface, till a superior
fate should permit me to perish. "I wandered into the centre of the wood. I stretched myself on the mossy
verge of a brook, and gazed at the stars till they disappeared. The next
day was spent with little variation. The cravings of hunger were felt,
and the sensation was a joyous one, since it afforded me the practicable
means of death. To refrain from food was easy, since some efforts would
be needful to procure it, and these efforts should not be made. Thus was
the sweet oblivion for which I so earnestly panted placed within my
reach. "Three days of abstinence, and reverie, and solitude, succeeded. On the
evening of the fourth, I was seated on a rock, with my face buried in my
hands. Some one laid his hand upon my shoulder. I started and looked up. I beheld a face beaming with compassion and benignity. He endeavoured to
extort from me the cause of my solitude and sorrow. I disregarded his
entreaties, and was obstinately silent. "Finding me invincible in this respect, he invited me to his cottage,
which was hard by. I repelled him at first with impatience and anger,
but he was not to be discouraged or intimidated. To elude his
persuasions I was obliged to comply. My strength was gone, and the vital
fabric was crumbling into pieces. A fever raged in my veins, and I was
consoled by reflecting that my life was at once assailed by famine and
disease. "Meanwhile, my gloomy meditations experienced no respite. I incessantly
ruminated on the events of my past life. The long series of my crimes
arose daily and afresh to my imagination. The image of Lodi was
recalled, his expiring looks and the directions which were mutually
given respecting his sister's and his property. "As I perpetually revolved these incidents, they assumed new forms, and
were linked with new associations. The volume written by his father, and
transferred to me by tokens which were now remembered to be more
emphatic than the nature of the composition seemed to justify, was
likewise remembered. It came attended by recollections respecting a
volume which I filled, when a youth, with extracts from the Roman and
Greek poets. Besides this literary purpose, I likewise used to preserve
in it the bank-bills with the keeping or carriage of which I chanced to
be entrusted. This image led me back to the leather case containing
Lodi's property, which was put into my hands at the same time with the
volume. "These images now gave birth to a third conception, which darted on my
benighted understanding like an electrical flash. Was it not possible
that part of Lodi's property might be enclosed within the leaves of this
volume? In hastily turning it over, I recollected to have noticed leaves
whose edges by accident or design adhered to each other. Lodi, in
speaking of the sale of his father's West-India property, mentioned that
the sum obtained for it was forty thousand dollars. Half only of this
sum had been discovered by me. How had the remainder been appropriated? Surely this volume contained it. "The influence of this thought was like the infusion of a new soul into
my frame. From torpid and desperate, from inflexible aversion to
medicine and food, I was changed in a moment into vivacity and hope,
into ravenous avidity for whatever could contribute to my restoration to
health. "I was not without pungent regrets and racking fears. That this volume
would be ravished away by creditors or plunderers was possible. Every
hour might be that which decided my fate. The first impulse was to seek
my dwelling and search for this precious deposit. "Meanwhile, my perturbations and impatience only exasperated my disease. While chained to my bed, the rumour of pestilence was spread abroad. This event, however, generally calamitous, was propitious to me, and was
hailed with satisfaction. It multiplied the chances that my house and
its furniture would be unmolested. "My friend was assiduous and indefatigable in his kindness. My
deportment, before and subsequent to the revival of my hopes, was
incomprehensible, and argued nothing less than insanity. My thoughts
were carefully concealed from him, and all that he witnessed was
contradictory and unintelligible. "At length, my strength was sufficiently restored. I resisted all my
protector's importunities to postpone my departure till the perfect
confirmation of my health. I designed to enter the city at midnight,
that prying eyes might be eluded; to bear with me a candle and the means
of lighting it, to explore my way to my ancient study, and to ascertain
my future claim to existence and felicity. "I crossed the river this morning. My impatience would not suffer me to
wait till evening. Considering the desolation of the city, I thought I
might venture to approach thus near, without hazard of detection. The
house, at all its avenues, was closed. I stole into the back court. A
window-shutter proved to be unfastened. I entered, and discovered
closets and cabinets unfastened and emptied of all their contents. At
this spectacle my heart sunk. My books, doubtless, had shared the common
destiny. My blood throbbed with painful vehemence as I approached the
study and opened the door. "My hopes, that languished for a moment, were revived by the sight of my
shelves, furnished as formerly. I had lighted my candle below, for I
desired not to awaken observation and suspicion by unclosing the
windows. My eye eagerly sought the spot where I remembered to have left
the volume. Its place was empty. The object of all my hopes had eluded
my grasp, and disappeared forever. "To paint my confusion, to repeat my execrations on the infatuation
which had rendered, during so long a time that it was in my possession,
this treasure useless to me, and my curses of the fatal interference
which had snatched away the prize, would be only aggravations of my
disappointment and my sorrow. You found me in this state, and know what
followed." CHAPTER XXII. This narrative threw new light on the character of Welbeck. If accident
had given him possession of this treasure, it was easy to predict on
what schemes of luxury and selfishness it would have been expended. The
same dependence on the world's erroneous estimation, the same devotion
to imposture, and thoughtlessness of futurity, would have constituted
the picture of his future life, as had distinguished the past. This money was another's. To retain it for his own use was criminal. Of
this crime he appeared to be as insensible as ever.