Edgar Huntley

uor and disquietude. I incessantly ruminated on the incidents

prove that the cavern was not dangerous, and that he who should adventure in might hope to come out again in safety, why not enter it after him? What could be the inducements of this person to betake himself to subterranean retreats? The basis of all this region is limestone; a substance that eminently abounds in rifts and cavities. These, by the gradual decay of their cementing parts, frequently make thei

ig in the spot where this person had been employed in a similar way. It might be that something was here deposited which might exhibit this transaction in a new light. At the suitable hour

fferent from the former one. It was a maze, oblique, circuitous, upward and downward, in a degree which only could take place in a region so remarkably irregular in surface, so abounding with hillocks and steeps and pits and brooks, as Solesbury. It seeme

es, and clambered over obstacles, from which, in a different state of mind, and with a different object of pursuit, I should hav

skirt of the wilderness, and at no long time we reached an open field, when a dwelling appeared, at a small distance, which I speedily recognised to be that belo

and his fellow-servant occupied an apartment in the barn as a lodging-room. This arduous purpose was accomplished, and I retired to the sh

ld to him my conjectures and suspicions; to convince him of the rectitude of my intentions; and to extort from him a

tain piece of work for me under my own eyes. He would, of course, spend the night with u

quired equanimity. "Remorse," said I, "is an ample and proper expiation for all offences. What does vengeance desire but to inflict misery? If misery come, its desires are accomplished. It is only the obdurate and exulting criminal that is worthy of ou

discoveries that I had made, and to listen to his reflections on the subject. I likewise d

ld man; with what solicitude the wanderings of my reason and my freaks of passion have been noted and corrected by him. Thou knowest his activity to save the life

astily proceeded to that subject which was nearest my heart. I related the adventures

old lady. She had carefully marked his musing and melancholy deportment. She had tried innumerable expedients for obtaining a knowledge of his past life, and particularly of his motives for coming to America. These expedients, however profound and ad

thout a companion. I have already observed that he and his fellow-servant occupied the same apartment in the barn. This circumstance was not unattended to by Miss In

the tone of expostulation, and appeared to be entreating to be saved from some great injury. Such phrases as these,--"have pity;" "have mercy," were frequently intermingled with groans, and accompanied with weeping. Sometimes he seemed

nion, who betrayed tokens of great alarm and dejection on discovering how he had been employed. He would solicitously inquire what were the words that he had uttered; but

bit had reconciled his companion to the sounds, they

the trouble to notice it to him, or build conjectures on the incident. During nights, however, Ambrose experienced a renewal of his ancient disturbances. He remarked that Clithero, one nigh

Clithero. The latter was confounded at this intelligence. He questioned Ambrose with great anxiety as to the particulars of this event, but he could gain no satisfaction from the s

glefield was employed in the kitchen, from a window of which she perceived who it was that made the signal. Clithero happened, at the same moment, to be employed near her. She, therefore, desired him to go and see whom the stranger wanted. He laid aside his work and

diately sat down to his work, but he seemed, for some time, to have lost all power over his limbs. He struggled to avoid the sight of the lady, and his gestures, irresolute or misdirected, betokened the deepest dismay. A

than Clithero. There was, likewise, a strong relation between this person and him who stopped at the gate. What was the subject of discourse between them? In answer to Miss Inglefield's interrogatories, he merely

ade my request to Clithero. I was fashioning an implement, I told him, with respect to which I could not wholly depend upon my own skill. I was acquainted with the dexterity of his contrivances, and the neatness of his workmanship. He readily

, since he would not remain, I cared not if, for the sake of recreation, and of a much more momentous purpose, I went along with him. He tacitly, and without apparent reluctance, consented to my scheme, and, accordingly, we set off together. This was an awful crisis. The time had now come that was to dissipate my uncertainty. By what means should I introduce

, and desire him to confute or confirm them. In doing this, I was principally stimulated by an ungovernable curiosity; yet, if I intended not the conferring of a benefit, I did not, at least, purpose the inf

y from one to another. None of them were sufficiently free from objection to allow me to adopt

chanical influence upon me. I stopped short, and seized the arm of my companion. Till this moment, he appeared to have been en

a that occurred to him, when he had noticed my behaviour

id he, in a tone of anxi

well. But stop a moment; I h

wered he, wi

(pointing, at the same time, to that along

n some degree, of

lar?" said he, in a doubtin

moment. Go with me down this path. We s

othing more was said till we entered the wood. I trusted to the suggestions of the moment. I had now

ot to keep you in suspense. There is a tale connected with it, which I am desi

he wiped his face with his handkerchief, and sighed deeply. I took no verbal notice of these symptoms. I deemed it incumbent on me to repress nothing. When I came to the concluding circumstance, by which hi

d probably have acted as I have done. But I had motives peculiar to myself. Need I remind you of a late disaster? That it happened beneath the shade of this tree? Am I not justi

can they be otherwise? I call upo

he was motionless as a statue. My last words seemed scarcely to have made any impression on his sense. I had no need to provide against the possible suggestions of revenge. I felt nothing but the tenderness of comp

o closely. This topic is solemn, but it need n

recoiled as from a spectre. I began to repent of my experiment. I could say nothing suitable to this occasion. I was obliged to stand a sil

ranger to the light in which I viewed this man. You have witnessed the grief which his fate occasioned, and the efforts that I made to discover and drag to punishment his murderer. You heard the execratio

a prey, and from which sleep cannot secure you. I know the enormity of your crime, but I know not your inducements. Whatever

e? Why should we be debarred from a comforter? An opportunity of repair

as an error, which reflection has cured. Were futurity laid open to my view, and events, with their

sposition to return. I had, hitherto, hoped for some disclosure, but now feared that it was designed to be withheld. He s

ave it. Some time you shall have it. When it will be,

ds. My reflections, as I proceeded, perpetually revolved round a single point. Th

ectation. I seemed as if I were on the eve of being ushered into a world whose scenes were tremendous but sublime. The suggestions of sorrow and malice had, for a time, taken their flight, and yielded place to a generous sympathy, which filled my eyes with tears, but had more in it of pleasure than of pain. That Clithero was instrumental to the d

s so unexpected, that I could more easily endure uncertainty with respect to what remained to be known. But my patience had its limi

nd shrunk. I was astonished at the alteration which the lapse of a week had made in his appearance. At a small distance I mistook him for a stranger. As soon as I perceived who it was, I greeted him with the utmost friendliness. My civilities made little impression o

he heart of Norwalk. We lighted on a recess, to which my companion appeared to be familiar, and which had all the advantages of solitude, and was suitable to rest. Here we stopped. Hitherto my companion had displayed a