I hung over the unhappy wretch, whose emaciated form
and rueful features sufficiently bespoke that savage hands

[figure description] Page 233.[end figure description]

had only completed that destruction which his miseries had
begun. He was mangled by the tomahawk in a shocking
manner, and there was little hope that human skill could
save his life.

I was sensible of nothing but compassion. I acted without
design, when seating myself on the floor I raised his
head and placed it on my knees. This movement awakened
his attention, and opening his eyes he fixed them on my
countenance. They testified neither insensibility, nor horror,
nor distraction. A faint emotion of surprise gave way to
an appearance of tranquillity. Having perceived these tokens
of a state less hopeless than I at first imagined, I spoke to
him; My friend! How do you feel? Can any thing be
done for you?

He answered me, in a tone more firm and with more
coherence of ideas than previous appearances had taught me
to expect. No, said he, thy kindness good youth, can avail
me nothing. The end of my existence here is at hand.
May my guilt be expiated by the miseries that I have suffered,
and my good deeds only attend me to the presence of
my divine judge.

I am waiting, not with trembling or dismay, for this close
of my sorrows. I breathed but one prayer, and that prayer
has been answered. I asked for an interview with thee,
young man, but feeling as I now feel, this interview, so much
desired, was beyond my hope. Now thou art come, in due
season, to hear the last words that I shall need to utter.

I wanted to assure thee that thy efforts for my benefit
were not useless. They have saved me from murdering
myself, a guilt more inexpiable than any which it was in my
power to commit.

I retired to the innermost recess of Norwalk, and gained
the summit of a hill, by subterranean paths. This hill I
knew to be on all sides inaccessible to human footsteps,
and the subterranean passages were closed up by stones.
Here I believed my solitude exempt from interruption and
my death, in consequence of famine, sure.

This persuasion was not taken away by your appearance
on the opposite steep. The chasm which severed us I knew
to be impassable. I withdrew from your sight.

[figure description] Page 234.[end figure description]

Some time after, awakening from a long sleep, I found
victuals beside me. He that brought it was invisible. For
a time, I doubted whether some messenger of heaven
had not interposed for my salvation. How other than by
supernatural means, my retreat should be explored, I was
unable to conceive. The summit was encompassed by dizzy
and profound gulfs, and the subterranean passages were still
closed.

This opinion, though corrected by subsequent reflection,
tended to change the course of my desperate thoughts. My
hunger, thus importunately urged, would not abstain, and I
ate of the food that was provided. Henceforth I determined
to live, to resume the path of obscurity and labor, 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
mmoirs 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 neighbors.
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

[figure description] Page 235.[end figure description]

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 ancles
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

[figure description] Page 236.[end figure description]

curiosity and wonder, for I was known to all of them; but waving
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 best 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

[figure description] Page 237.[end figure description]

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 honor.

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. Clarice, relieved by the sudden death of her
friend, and unexpectedly by all, arrived at the same hour.

These tidings astonished, afflicted, and delighted the lady.
Her brother's death had been long believed by all but herself.
To find her doubts verified, and his existence ascerrtained
was the dearest consolation that he ever could bestow.
She was afflicted at the proofs that had been noted of the
continuance of his depravity, but she dreaded no danger to
herself from his malignity or vengeance.

The ignorance and prepossessions of this woman were
remarkable. On this subject only she was perverse, headstrong,
obstinate. Her anxiety to benefit this arch-ruffian
occupied her whole thoughts, and allowed her no time to
reflect upon the reasonings or remonstrances of others.
She could not be prevailed on to deny herself to his visits,
and I parted from her in the utmost perplexity.

A messenger came to me at midnight entreating my immediate
presence. Some disaster had happened, but of
what kind the messenger was unable to tell. My fears
easily conjured up the image of Wiatte. Terror scarcely
allowed me to breathe. When I entered the house of Mrs.
Lorimer, I was conducted to her chamber. She lay upon
the bed in a state of stupefaction, that arose from some
mental cause. Clarice sat by her, wringing her hands, and

[figure description] Page 238.[end figure description]

pouring forth her tears without intermission. Neither could
explain to me the nature of the scene. I made inquiries
of the servants and attendants. They merely said that the
family as usual had retired to rest, but their lady's bell rung
with great violence, and called them in haste to her chamber,
where they found her in a swoon upon the floor, and
the young lady in the utmost affright and perturbation.

Suitable means being used, Mrs. Lorimer had, at length,
recovered, but was still nearly insensible. I went to Clithero's
apartments, but he was not to be found, and the
domestics informed me that since he had gone with me, he
had not returned. The doors between this chamber and
the court were open; hence that some dreadful interview
had taken place, perhaps with Wiatte, was an unavoidable
conjecture. He had withdrawn, however, without committing
any personal injury.

I need not mention my reflections upon this scene. All
was tormenting doubt and suspense, till the morning arrived,
and tidings were received that Wiatte had been killed in the
streets. This event was antecedent to that which had occasioned
Mrs. Lorimer's distress and alarm. I now remembered
that fatal prepossession, by which the lady was
governed, and her frantic belief that her death and that of
her brother were to fall out at the same time. Could some
witness of his death have brought her tidings of it? Had
he penetrated, unexpected and unlicensed to her chamber,
and were these the effects produced by the intelligence?

Presently I knew that not only Wiatte was dead, but that
Clithero had killed him. Clithero had not been known to
return, and was no where to be found. He then was the
bearer of these tidings, for none but he could have found
access or egress without disturbing the servants.

These doubts were at length at an end. In a broken and
confused manner, and after the lapse of some days, the
monstrous and portentous truth was disclosed. After our
interview, the lady and her daughter had retired to the same
chamber; the former had withdrawn to her closet, and the
latter to bed. Some one's entrance alarmed the lady, and
coming forth after a moment's pause, the spectacle which
Clithero has too faithfully described, presented itself.

[figure description] Page 239.[end figure description]

What could I think? A life of uniform hypocrisy, or a
sudden loss of reason, were the only suppositions to be
formed. Clithero was the parent of fury and abhorrence
in my heart. In either case I started at the name. I shuddered
at the image of the apostate or the maniac.

What? Kill the brother whose existence was interwoven
with that of his benefactress and his friend? Then hasten
to her chamber, and attempt her life? Lift a dagger to
destroy her who had been the author of his being and his
happiness?

He that could meditate a deed like this was no longer
man. An agent from hell had mastered his faculties. He
was become the engine of infernal malice, against whom it
was the duty of all mankind to rise up in arms and never to
desist till, by shattering it to atoms, its power to injure was
taken away.

All inquiries to discover the place of his retreat were vain.
No wonder, methought, the he wrapt himself in the folds
of impenetrable secrecy. Curbed, checked, baffled in the
midst of his career, no wonder that he shrunk into obscurity,
that he fled from justice and revenge, that he dared not
meet the rebukes of that eye, which, dissolving in tenderness
or flashing with disdain, had ever been irresistible.

But how shall I describe the lady's condition? Cilthero
she had cherished from his infancy. He was the stay, the
consolation, the pride of her life. His projected alliance
with her daughter, made him still more dear. Her eloquence
was never tired of expatiating on his purity and rectitude.
No wonder that she delighted in this theme, for he was her
own work. His virtues were the creatures of her bounty.

How hard to be endured was this sad reverse? She can
be tranquil, but never more will she be happy. To promote
her forgetfulness of him, I persuaded her to leave her country,
which contained a thousand memorials of past calamity,
and which was lapsing fast into civil broils. Clarice has
accompanied us, and time may effect the happiness of
others, by her means, though she can never remove the
melancholy of her mother.

I have listened to your tale, not without compassion.
What would you have me to do? To prolong his life,
would be merely to protract his misery.

[figure description] Page 240.[end figure description]

He can never be regarded with complacency by my
wife. He can never be thought of without shuddering by
Clarice. Common ills are not without a cure less than
death, but here, all remedies are vain. Consciousness itself
is the malady; the pest; of which he only is cured who
ceases to think.

I could not but assent to this mournful conclusion; yet
though death was better to Clithero than life, could not some
of his mistakes be rectified? Euphemia Lorimer, contrary to
his belief, was still alive. He dreamed that she was dead,
and a thousand evils were imagined to flow from that death.
This death and its progeny of ills, haunted his fancy, and
added keenness to his remorse. Was it not our duty to
rectify this error?

Sarsefield reluctantly assented to the truth of my arguments
on this head. He consented to return, and afford
the dying man, the consolation of knowing that the being
whom he adored as a benefactor and parent, had not been
deprived of existence, though bereft of peace by his act.

During Sarsefield's absence my mind was busy in revolving
the incidents that had just occurred. I ruminated on the
last words of Clithero. There was somewhat in his narrative
that was obscure and contradictory. He had left the
manuscript, which he so much and so justly prized, in
his cabinet. He entered the chamber in my absence, and
found the cabinet unfastened and the manuscript gone. It
was I by whom the cabinet was opened, but the manuscript
supposed to be contained in it, was buried in the earth beneath
the elm. How should Clithero be unacquainted with its
situation, since none but Clithero could have dug for it this
grave?

This mystery vanished when I reflected on the history
of my own manuscript. Clithero had buried his treasure
with his own hands, as mine had been secreted by myself,
but both acts had been performed during sleep. The deed
was neither prompted by the will, nor noticed by the senses
of him, by whom it was done. Disastrous and humiliating
is the state of man! By his own hands, is constructed
the mass of misery and error in which his steps are forever
involved.

[figure description] Page 241.[end figure description]

Thus it was with thy friend. Hurried on by phantoms
too indistinct to be now recalled, I wandered from my chamber
to the desert. I plunged into some unvisited cavern,
and easily proceeded till I reached the edge of a pit.
There my step was deceived, and I tumbled headlong from
the precipice. The fall bereaved me of sense, and I
continued breathless and motionless during the remainder of
the night and the ensuing day.

How little cognizance have men over the actions and
motives of each other? How total is our blindness with
regard to our own performances! Who would have sought
me in the bowels of this mountain? Ages might have passed
away, before my bones would be discovered in this tomb,
by some traveller whom curiosity had prompted to explore it.

I was roused from these reflections by Sarsefield's return.
Inquiring into Cilthero's condition; he answered that the
unhappy man was insensible, but that, notwithstanding numerous
and dreadful gashes, in different parts of his body, it
was possible, that by submitting to the necessary treatment,
he might recover.

Encouraged by this information, I endeavored to awaken
the zeal and compassion of my friend in Clithero's behalf.
He recoiled with involuntary shuddering from any task
which would confine him to the presence of this man.
Time and reflection, he said, might introduce different sentiments
and feelings, but at present he could not but regard
this person as a maniac, whose disease was irremediable,
and whose existence could not be protracted, but to his own
misery and the misery of others.

Finding him irreconcilably averse to any scheme, connected
with the welfare of Clithero, I began to think that
his assistance as a surgeon was by no means necessary. He
had declared that the sufferer needed nothing more than
common treatment, and to this the skill of a score of aged
women in this district, furnished with simples culled from
the forest, and pointed out, of old time, by Indian leeches
was no less adequate than that of Sarsefield. These women
were ready and officious in their charity, and none of them
were prepossessed against the sufferer by a knowledge of
his genuine story.

[figure description] Page 242.[end figure description]

Sarsefield, meanwhile, was impatient for my removal to
Inglefield's habitation, and that venerable friend was no less
impatient to receive me. My hurts were superficial, and
my strength sufficiently repaired by a night's repose. Next
day I went thither, leaving Clithero to the care of his immediate
neighbors.

Sarsefield's engagements compelled him to prosecute his
journey into Virginia, from which he had somewhat deviated,
in order to visit Solebury. He proposed to return in
less than a month, and then to take me in his company to
New York. He has treated me with paternal tenderness,
and insists upon the privilege of consulting for my interest,
as if he were my real father. Meanwhile, these views
have been disclosed to Inglefield, and it is with him that I
am to remain, with my sisters, until his return.

My reflections have been various and tumultuous. They
have been busy in relation to you, to Weymouth, and especially
to Clithero. The latter, polluted with gore and
weakened by abstinence, fatigue, and the loss of blood,
appeared in my eyes, to be in a much more dangerous
condition than the event proved him to be. I was punctually
informed of the progress of his cure, and proposed in
a few days to visit him. The duty of explaining the truth,
respecting the present condition of Mrs. Lorimer, had devolved
upon me. By imparting this intelligence, I hoped
to work the most auspicious revolutions in his feelings, and
prepared, therefore, with alacrity, for an interview.

In this hope I was destined to be disappointed. On the
morning on which I intended to visit him, a messenger arrived
from the house in which he was entertained, and informed
us that the family on entering the sick man's apartment,
had found it deserted. It appeared that Clithero had,
during the night, risen from his bed, and gone secretly
forth. No traces of his flight have since been discovered.

But O! my friend, the death of Waldegrave, thy
brother, is at length divested of uncertainty and mystery.
Hitherto I had been able to form no conjecture respecting
it, but the solution was found shortly after this time.

Queen Mab, three days after my adventure, was seized
in her hut on suspicion of having aided and counselled her
countrymen, in their late depredations. She was not to be

[figure description] Page 243.[end figure description]

awed or intimidated by the treatment she received, but
readily confessed and gloried in the mischief she had done;
and accounted for it by enumerating the injuries which she
had received from her neighbors.

These injuries consisted in contemptuous or neglectful
treatment, and in the rejection of groundless and absurd
claims. The people of Chetasco were less obsequious to
her humors than those of Solebury, her ancient neighborhood,
and her imagination brooded for a long time, over
nothing but schemes of revenge. She became sullen, irascible,
and spent more of her time in solitude than ever.

A troop of her countrymen at length visited her hut.
Their intentions being hostile, they concealed from the inhabitants
their presence in this quarter of the country.
Some motives induced them to withdraw and postpone, for
the present, the violence which they meditated. One of
them, however, more sanguinary and audacious than the
rest would not depart, without some gratification of his vengeance.
He left his associates and penetrated by night into
Solebury, resolving to attack the first human being whom he
should meet. It was the fate of thy unhappy brother to encounter
this ruffian, whose sagacity made him forbear to tear
away the usual trophy from the dead, lest he should afford
grounds for suspicion as to the authors of the evil.

Satisfied with this exploit, he rejoined his companions,
and after an interval of three weeks returned with a more
numerous party, to execute a more extensive project of destruction.
They were counselled and guided, in all their
movements, by Queen Mab, who now explained these particulars,
and boldly defied her oppressors. Her usual obstinacy
and infatuation induced her to remain in her ancient
dwelling and prepare to meet the consequences.

This disclosure awakened anew all the regrets and anguish
which flowed from that disaster. It has been productive,
however, of some benefit. Suspicions and doubts,
by which my soul was harassed, and which were injurious
to the innocent, are now at an end. It is likewise some imperfect
consolation to reflect, that the assassin has himself
been killed, and probably by my own hand. The shedder
of blood no longer lives to pursue his vocation, and justice
is satisfied.

[figure description] Page 244.[end figure description]

Thus have I fulfilled my promise to compose a minute
relation of my sufferings. I remembered my duty to thee,
and as soon as I was able to hold a pen, employed it to inform
thee of my welfare. I could not at that time enter
into particulars, but reserved a more copious narrative till a
period of more health and leisure.

On looking back, I am surprised at the length to which my
story has run. I thought that a few days would suffice to
complete it, but one page has insensibly been added to
another, till I have consumed weeks and filled volumes.
Here I will draw to a close; I will send you what I have
written, and discuss with you in conversation, my other immediate
concerns, and my schemes for the future. As soon
as I have seen Sarsefield, I will visit you. Farewell.

E. H.

Solebury, November 10.

To Mr. Sarsefield.
Philadelphia.

I came hither but ten minutes ago, and write this letter
in the bar of the stage-house. I wish not to lose a moment
in informing you of what has happened. I cannot do justice
to my own feelings when I reflect upon the rashness of
which I have been guilty.

I will give you the particulars tomorrow. At present, I
shall only say that Clithero is alive, is apprized of your wife's
arrival and abode in New York, and has set out, with mysterious
intentions to visit her.

May heaven avert the consequences of such a design.
May you be enabled by some means, to prevent their meeting.
If you cannot prevent it—but I must not reason on
such an event, nor lengthen out this letter.