The Lock and Key Library: The most interesting stories of all nations: American
General
The Lock and Key Library: The most interesting stories of all nations: American
Detective and mystery stories; Short stories, American
At that moment my despair suddenly became vigorous. My nerves were
no longer unstrung. My powers, that had long been deadened, were
revived. My bosom swelled with a sudden energy, and the conviction
darted through my mind, that to end my torments was, at once,
practicable and wise.
I knew how to find way to the recesses of life. I could use a
lancet with some skill, and could distinguish between vein and
artery. By piercing deep into the latter, I should shun the evils
which the future had in store for me, and take refuge from my woes
in quiet death.
I started on my feet, for my feebleness was gone, and hasted to the
closet. A lancet and other small instruments were preserved in a
case which I had deposited here. Inattentive as I was to foreign
considerations, my ears were still open to any sound of mysterious
import that should occur. I thought I heard a step in the entry.
My purpose was suspended, and I cast an eager glance at my chamber
door, which was open. No one appeared, unless the shadow which I
discerned upon the floor was the outline of a man. If it were, I
was authorized to suspect that some one was posted close to the
entrance, who possibly had overheard my exclamations.
My teeth chattered, and a wild confusion took the place of my
momentary calm. Thus it was when a terrific visage had disclosed
itself on a former night. Thus it was when the evil destiny of
Wieland assumed the lineaments of something human. What horrid
apparition was preparing to blast my sight?
Still I listened and gazed. Not long, for the shadow moved; a
foot, unshapely and huge, was thrust forward; a form advanced from
its concealment, and stalked into the room. It was Carwin!
While I had breath, I shrieked. While I had power over my muscles,
I motioned with my hand that he should vanish. My exertions could
not last long: I sunk into a fit.
Oh that this grateful oblivion had lasted forever! Too quickly I
recovered my senses. The power of distinct vision was no sooner
restored to me, than this hateful form again presented itself, and
I once more relapsed.
A second time, untoward nature recalled me from the sleep of death.
I found myself stretched upon the bed. When I had power to look
up, I remembered only that I had cause to fear. My distempered
fancy fashioned to itself no distinguishable image. I threw a
languid glance round me: once more my eyes lighted upon Carwin.
He was seated on the floor, his back rested against the wall; his
knees were drawn up, and his face was buried in his hands. That
his station was at some distance, that his attitude was not
menacing, that his ominous visage was concealed, may account for my
now escaping a shock violent as those which were past. I withdrew
my eyes, but was not again deserted by my senses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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