ARTHUR
68

This scene lasted for how long. Welbeck's passion and reason unconsciously took on a new form. Sadness, mixed with confusion, spread across his face. He stopped arguing or talking. His greetings were drawn from me, which hitherto had been set; and, wandering or empty, witnessed a terrible conflict of mind beyond anything my young imagination had ever imagined.

For a moment he seemed oblivious to my presence. He moved to and fro with unbalanced strides, and with gestures that had a terrible but unclear meaning. Sometimes he struggled to breathe, and his efforts were directed to remove some of the choking barriers.

There is no test of my fortitude that until now happened the same as the one that is now the target. The suspicions expressed by these deportations are vague and formless. The storm I witnessed was the beginning of horror. It is an upheaval that will end with the birth of some gigantic and optimistic goals. Did he meditate to offer a bloody sacrifice? Was it his own death or my death to prove the magnitude of his despair or his impulse of revenge?

Suicide was no stranger to his mind. He had agreed to live but on one condition; that regaining possession of this money. Should I be allowed to encourage him, with my stern refusal, to solve his fatal crime? But my fear of this disaster is unfounded. Up until now he had argued and persuaded; but this method was pursued because it was more qualified than the use of coercion, or rather than procrastination.

No. gabe. This is the sign that points to me. Some unknown impulse was at work within him, to tear apart his human remains and adjust them to my murderous post. I don't know how the accumulation of guilt can contribute to his satisfaction or safety. His actions had been partly exhibited and vaguely seen. The subtraction or omission of what corrupts his former or new narrative; how far his actual appearance corresponds to the deeds now to be done, I do not know.

These thoughts lent a new speed into my blood. I lifted my head from the pillow, and watched this man's behavior with deeper attention. The paroxysm that controlled it at length, in some ways, subsided. He mumbled, "Yes. Definitely come. My last humiliation should cover me up. My last confession has to be made. Die, and leave this great car of danger, must not.

"O Clemenza ! O Mervyn! You do not deserve that I should leave a legacy of persecution and death. Your salvation must be bought at whatever price my evil fate will be set upon him. The rope of the executioner, the eternal record of infamy, is better than letting you be beset by the consequences of my guilt. It shouldn't be."

Saying this, Welbeck threw a frightened look at the windows and doors. He checked every street and listened. Three times he repeated this examination. After, as it were, making sure that no one was lurking in the audience, she approached the bed. He put his mouth close to my face. He tried to speak, but once again inspected the apartment with a suspicious look.

He approached, and at length, with a barely articulate tone, and suffocated by emotion, he spoke: "Great young man but very stubborn! Know at least the cause of my nervousness. Know at least the depth of my madness and the magnitude of my guilt.

“Bill leave it to me, and save yourself from persecution and disgrace. Save the woman you want to exploit, from the blackest of accusations; from the danger to her life and her fame; from languishing in the basement; from expiring at the gallows. !

"Bill oh, save me from the bitterness of death! Let the evil that gave birth to my miserable life end here and in myself. Leave it to me, because"

There he stopped. His words were terrified. A quick look was again directed at the windows and doors. The silence was not disturbed, except by noises from afar, produced by some moving train. Again he called out a resolution, and spoke:

"Give them to me because they're faked !

"Before I said, that the scheme of counterfeiting had been conceived. Shame will not make me add, that my scheme was brought to execution. Bills were made, but my fear went against my need, and forbade me to try to exchange them. An interview with Lodi saved me from a dangerous experiment. I include it in that volume, as a means of future luxury, to be used when all other not-so-dangerous resources must fail.

“When I think of opportunities that will give them owners; bring them into circulation; load innocent people with suspicion; and bring them to justice, and, perhaps, to death, my feelings were full of suffering; earnestly as I gasped for breath. Death, it had to be postponed until I gained possession and destroyed these papers.

"What's left now? You've found them. Fortunately they have not been used. Therefore, give it to me, that I may immediately destroy the mother of evil that they cannot help but produce."

This disclosure is strange. It was accompanied by every sign of sincerity. How I stumbled on the brink of destruction! If I use this money, in what labyrinth of misery may I not get involved! My innocence can never be proven. An alliance with Welbeck is unlikely to fail to conclude. My career will find shameful closure; or, if my punishment is turned into slavery and hard work, will the testimony of my conscience support me?

I shudder at the disaster from which I was saved by the miraculous opportunity that brought me to this house. Welbeck's request is beneficial to me and honorable to himself. I could not hesitate for a moment in obedience. The note was attached to the paper, and stored in the folds of my clothes. I put my hands on them.

My movements and attention were captured, at that moment, by the sounds that appeared on the street. Footsteps were heard on the sidewalk in front of the door, and voices, as if busy in discourse. This incident was adapted to instill the deepest alarm into myself and my colleagues. Our daunted motives were, indeed, different, and much stronger in my case than in his case. It signifies to me nothing less than the loss of my asylum, and the curse to the hospital.

Welbeck rushed to the door, to listen to the conversation below. This interval contains thoughts. The impulse that brought my reflection from Welbeck to my own state passed in an instant, and made me reflect back on the recognition requirements that had just been made.

The horror at fate that allowed me to avoid this interview was most prominent in my conception. I'm desperate to hand over this fatal bill. I hold them for that purpose in my hands, and can't wait for Welbeck's return. He continued at the door; bowed, with a sidetracked face, and attentively watched the conversation on the street.

All the circumstances of my current situation tend to hold back my progress of thought and tie my contemplation to one picture; but even now there is still room for foresight and consideration. Welbeck intends to destroy this bill. Perhaps he is insincere; or, if his purpose has been honestly expressed, this goal may change when the banknote is in his hands. Poverty and his optimistic temperament may have encouraged him to use it.

That this behavior is evil, and will only multiply its misery, cannot be questioned. Why should I bow down his weakness to this temptation? The destruction of these banknotes is the harshest order of my duty; demanded by every sanction that binds me to advance the welfare of mankind.

The way of destruction is easy. A lit candle stands on the table, at a distance of several meters. Why should I hesitate for a moment to exterminate such a powerful cause of guilt and guilt? A moment passed was enough. For a while it might change the circumstances that surround me, and derail my project.

My sluggishness was suspended by the urgency of this opportunity. I started from my bed and slid to the table. Seizing the note with my right hand, I held it in a candle flame, and then threw it, smouldering, onto the floor.

Illumination suddenly felt by Welbeck. The cause appears to suggest itself immediately. He turned around, and, marking the paper on which it lay, jumped into place, and extinguished the fire with his feet. Interposition's late. Only enough of them were left to tell him about the nature of the sacrifice.