I only
exclaimed, "Would to God the shark, the poison, the sword of the
enemy, or the precipice of Trinidad had destroyed me before this fatal
hour."
Talbot opened his languid eyes, and fixed them on me with a glassy
stare; but he did not speak. Suddenly, recollection seemed for a
moment to return--he recognised me, and, O God, his look of kindness
pierced my heart. He made several efforts to speak, and at last said,
in broken accents, and at long and painful intervals,
"Look at letter--writing-desk--read all--explain--God bless--" His
head fell back, and he was dead.
Oh, how I envied him! Had he been ten thousand times more guilty than
I had ever supposed him, it would have given no comfort to my mind. I
had murdered him, and too late I acknowledged his innocence. I know
not why, and can scarcely tell how I did it, but I took off my
neckcloth, and bound it tightly round his waist, over the wound. The
blood ceased to flow. I left the body, and returned to our lodging, in
a state of mental prostration and misery, proportioned to the heat and
excitement with which I had quitted it.
My first object was to read the letters which my poor friend had
referred to. On my arrival, both our servants were up. My hands and
clothes were dyed with blood, and they looked at me with astonishment.
I ran hastily upstairs, to avoid them, and took the writing-desk, the
key of which I knew hung to his watch-chain. Seizing the poker, I
split it open, and took out the packet he mentioned.
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