Henceforth I determined to live, to resume the path of
obscurity and labour which I had relinquished, and wait till my God
should summon me to retribution. To anticipate his call is only to
redouble our guilt. "I designed not to return to Inglefield's service, but to choose some
other and remoter district. Meanwhile, I had left in his possession a
treasure, which my determination to die had rendered of no value, but
which my change of resolution restored. Enclosed in a box at
Inglefield's were the memoirs of Euphemia Lorimer, by which, in all my
vicissitudes, I had been hitherto accompanied, and from which I
consented to part only because I had refused to live. My existence was
now to be prolonged, and this manuscript was once more to constitute the
torment and the solace of my being. "I hastened to Inglefield's by night. There was no need to warn him of
my purpose. I desired that my fate should be an eternal secret to my
ancient master and his neighbours. The apartment containing my box was
well known, and easily accessible. "The box was found, but broken and rifled of its treasure. My transports
of astonishment, and indignation, and grief, yielded to the resumption
of my fatal purpose. I hastened back to the hill, and determined anew to
perish. "This mood continued to the evening of the ensuing day. Wandering over
rocks and pits, I discovered the manuscript lying under a jutting
precipice. The chance that brought it hither was not less propitious and
miraculous than that by which I had been supplied with food. It produced
a similar effect upon my feelings, and, while in possession of this
manuscript, I was reconciled to the means of life. I left the mountain,
and, traversing the wilderness, stopped in Chetasco. That kind of
employment which I sought was instantly procured; but my new vocation
was scarcely assumed when a band of savages invaded our security. "Rambling in the desert by moonlight, I encountered these foes. They
rushed upon me, and, after numerous wounds, which for the present
neither killed nor disabled me, they compelled me to keep pace with them
in their retreat. Some hours have passed since the troop was overtaken
and my liberty redeemed. Hardships, and repeated wounds, inflicted at
the moment when the invaders were surprised and slain, have brought me
to my present condition. I rejoice that my course is about to
terminate." Here the speaker was interrupted by the tumultuous entrance of the party
by whom he had been brought hither. Their astonishment at seeing me
sustaining the head of the dying man may be easily conceived. Their
surprise was more strongly excited by the disappearance of the captive
whom they had left in this apartment, bound hand and foot. It now
appeared that, of the savage troop who had adventured thus far in search
of pillage and blood, all had been destroyed but two, who had been led
hither as prisoners. On their entrance into this house, one of the party
had been sent to Walcot's to summon Sarsefield to the aid of the wounded
man, while others had gone in search of cords to secure the arms and
legs of the captives, who had hitherto been manacled imperfectly. The cords were brought and one of them was bound; but the other, before
the same operation was begun upon him, broke, by a sudden effort, the
feeble ligatures by which he was at present constrained, and, seizing a
musket that lay near him, fired on his enemies, and then rushed out of
doors. All eagerly engaged in the pursuit. The savage was fleet as a
deer, and finally eluded his pursuers. While their attention was thus engaged abroad, he that remained found
means to extricate his wrists and ankles from his bonds, and, betaking
himself to the stairs, escaped, as I before described, through the
window of the room which I had occupied. They pestered me with their
curiosity and wonder, for I was known to all of them; but, waiving the
discussion of my own concerns, I entreated their assistance to carry
Clithero to the chamber and the bed which I had just deserted. I now, in spite of pain, fatigue, and watchfulness, set out to go to
Walton's. Sarsefield was ready to receive me at the door, and the
kindness and compassion of the family were active in my behalf. I was
conducted to a chamber and provided with suitable attendance and
remedies. I was not unmindful of the more deplorable condition of Clithero. I
incessantly meditated on the means for his relief. His case stood in
need of all the vigilance and skill of a physician, and Sarsefield was
the only one of that profession whose aid could be seasonably
administered. Sarsefield, therefore, must be persuaded to bestow this
aid. There was but one mode of conquering his abhorrence of this man,--to
prepossess my friend with the belief of the innocence of Clithero, or to
soothe him into pity by a picture of remorse and suffering. This could
be done, and in the manner most conformable to truth, by a simple
recital of the incidents that had befallen, and by repeating the
confession which had been extorted from Clithero. I requested all but my friend to leave my chamber, and then, soliciting
a patient hearing, began the narrative of Waldegrave's death; of the
detection of Clithero beneath the shade of the elm; of the suspicions
which were thence produced; and of the forest interview to which these
suspicions gave birth. I then repeated, without variation or addition,
the tale which was then told. I likewise mentioned my subsequent
transactions in Norwalk, so far as they illustrated the destiny of
Clithero. During this recital, I fixed my eyes upon the countenance of Sarsefield,
and watched every emotion as it arose or declined. With the progress of
my tale, his indignation and his fury grew less, and at length gave
place to horror and compassion. His seat became uneasy; his pulse throbbed with new vehemence. When I
came to the motives which prompted the unhappy man to visit the chamber
of his mistress, he started from his seat, and sometimes strode across
the floor in a troubled mood, and sometimes stood before me, with his
breath almost suspended in the eagerness of his attention. When I
mentioned the lifted dagger, the shriek from behind, and the apparition
that interposed, he shuddered and drew back, as if a dagger had been
aimed at his breast. When the tale was done, some time elapsed in mutual and profound
silence. My friend's thoughts were involved in a mournful and
indefinable reverie. From this he at length recovered and spoke:--

"It is true. A tale like this could never be the fruit of invention, or
be invented to deceive. He has done himself injustice. His character was
spotless and fair. All his moral properties seemed to have resolved
themselves into gratitude, fidelity, and honour. "We parted at the door, late in the evening, as he mentioned, and he
guessed truly that subsequent reflection had induced me to return and to
disclose the truth to Mrs. Lorimer.