University of Virginia Library

7. EDGAR HUNTLY.
CHAPTER VII.

Clarice, meanwhile, was
absent. Her friend seemed, at the end
of a month, to be little less distant from
the grave than at first. My impatience
would not allow me to wait till her death.
I visited her, but was once more obliged
to return alone. I arrived late in the city,
and being greatly fatigued, I retired almost
immediately to my chamber.

On hearing of my arrival, Sarsefield
hastened to see me. He came to my bed-side,
and such, in his opinion, was the
importance of the tidings which he had

to communicate, that he did not scruple
to rouse me from a deep sleep...

At this period of his narrative,
Clithero stopped. His complexion varied
from one degree of paleness to another.
His brain appeared to suffer some severe
constriction. He desired to be excused,
for a few minutes, from proceeding. In
a short time he was relieved from this
paroxysm, and resumed his tale with an
accent tremulous at first, but acquiring
stability and force as he went on.

On waking, as I have said, I found
my friend seated at my bed-side. His
countenance exhibited various tokens of
alarm. As soon as I perceived who it
was, I started, exclaming What is the
matter?

He sighed. Pardon, said he, this
unseasonable intrusion. A light matter
would not have occasioned it. I have
waited, for two days past, in an agony

of impatience, for your return. Happily,
you are, at last, come. I stand in the
utmost need of your council and aid.

Heaven defend! cried I. This is a
terrible prelude. You may, of course,
rely upon my assistance and advice.
What is it that you have to propose?

Tuesday evening, he answered, I
spent here. It was late before I returned
to my lodgings. I was in the act of lifting
my hand to the bell, when my eye
was caught by a person standing close
to the wall, at the distance of ten paces.
His attitude was that of one employed
in watching my motions. His face was
turned towards me, and happened, at
that moment, to be fully illuminated by
the rays of a globe-lamp that hung over
the door. I instantly recognized his
features. I was petrified. I had no
power to execute my design, or even to
move, but stood, for some seconds

gazing upon him. He was, in no degree,
disconcerted by the eagerness of my
scrutiny. He seemed perfectly indifferent
to the consequences of being known.
At length he slowly turned his eyes to
another quarter, but without changing
his posture, or the sternness of his looks.
I cannot describe to you the shock which
this encounter produced in me. At last
I went into the house, and have ever
since been excessively uneasy.

I do not see any ground for uneasiness

You do not then suspect who this
person is?

No...

It is Arthur Wiatte...

Good heaven! It is impossible.
What, my lady's brother?

The same...

It cannot be. Were we not assured
of his death? That he perished in a mutiny

on board the vessel in which he was
embarked for transportation?

Such was rumour, which is easily
mistaken. My eyes cannot be deceived
in this case. I should as easily fail to
recognize his sister, when I first met her,
as him. This is the man, whether once
dead or not, he is, at present, alive, and
in this city.

But has any thing since happened to
confirm you in this opinion.

Yes, there has. As soon as I had
recovered from my first surprise, I began
to reflect upon the measures proper to
be taken. This was the identical Arthur
Wiatte. You know his character. No
time was likely to change the principles
of such a man, but his appearance sufficiently
betrayed the incurableness of his
habits. The same sullen and atrocious
passions were written in his visage. You

recollect the vengeance which Wiatte
denounced against his sister. There is
every thing to dread from his malignity.
How to obviate the danger, I know not.
I thought, however, of one expedient. It
might serve a present purpose, and something
better might suggest itself on your
return.

I came hither early the next day.
Old Gowan the porter is well acquainted
with Wiatte's story. I mentioned to him
that I had reason to think that he had
returned. I charged him to have a
watchful eye upon every one that knocked
at the gate, and that if this person
should come, by no means to admit him.
The old man promised faithfully to abide
by my directions. His terrors, indeed,
were greater than mine, and he knew the
importance of excluding Wiatte from
these walls.

Did you not inform my lady of this?

No. In what way could I tell it to
her? What end could it answer? Why
should I make her miserable? But I have
not done. Yesterday morning Gowan
took me aside, and informed me that
Wiatte had made his appearance, the day
before, at the gate. He knew him, he
said, in a moment. He demanded to see
the lady, but the old man told him she
was engaged, and could not be seen.
He assumed peremtory and haughty airs,
and asserted that his business was of
such importance as not to endure a
moment's delay. Gowan persisted in his
first refusal. He retired with great reluctance,
but said he should return
to-morrow, when he should insist upon
admission to the presence of the lady.
I have inquired, and find that he has not
repeated his visit. What is to be done?

I was equally at a loss with my friend.
This incident was so unlooked for.
What might not be dreaded from the
monstrous depravity of Wiatte? His menaces
of vengeance against his sister still
rung in my ears. Some means of eluding
them were indispensable. Could law be
resorted to? Against an evil like this,
no legal provision had been made.
Nine years had elapsed since his
transportation. Seven years was the
period of his exile. In returning, therefore,
he had committed no crime. His
person could not be lawfully molested.
We were justified, merely, in repelling
an attack. But suppose we should appeal
to law, could this be done without
the knowledge and concurrence of the
lady? She would never permit it. Her
heart was incapable of fear from this
quarter. She would spurn at the mention
of precautions against the hatred of

her brother. Her inquietude would
merely be awakened on his own account.

I was overwhelmed with perplexity.
Perhaps if he were sought out, and some
judgment formed of the kind of danger
to be dreaded from him, by a knowledge
of his situation and views, some expedient
might be thence suggested.

But how should his haunts be discovered?
This was easy. He had intimated
the design of applying again for
admission to his sister. Let a person be
stationed near at hand, who, being furnished
with an adequate description of his
person and dress, shall mark him when
he comes, and follow him, when he
retires, and shall forthwith impart to us
the information on that head which he
shall be able to collect.

My friend concurred in this scheme.
No better could, for the present, be suggested.
Here ended our conference.

I was thus supplied with a new subject
of reflection. It was calculated to
fill my mind with dreary forbodings.
The future was no longer a scene of
security and pleasure. It would be hard
for those to partake of our fears, who
did not partake of our experience. The
existence of Wiatte, was the canker that
had blasted the felicity of my patroness.
In his reappearance on the stage, there
was something portentous. It seemed
to include in it, consequences of the
utmost moment, without my being able
to discover what these consequences
were.

That Sarsefield should be so quickly
followed by his Arch-foe; that they started
anew into existence, without any previous
intimation, in a manner wholly

unexpected, and at the same period. It
seemed as if there lurked, under those
appearances, a tremendous significance,
which human sagacity could not uncover.
My heart sunk within me
when I reflected that this was the father
of my Clarice. He by whose cruelty
her mother was torn from the injoyment
of untarnished honour, and consigned to
infamy and an untimely grave: He by
whom herself was abandoned in the helplessness
of infancy, and left to be the
prey of obdurate avarice, and the victim
of wretches who traffic in virgin innocence:
Who had done all that in him lay
to devote her youth to guilt and misery.
What were the limits of his power?
How may he exert the parental prerogatives?

To sleep, while these images were
haunting me, was impossible. I passed
the night in continual motion. I strode,

without ceasing, across the floor of my
apartment. My mind was wrought to
an higher pitch than I had ever before
experienced. The occasion, accurately
considered, was far from justifying the
ominous inquietudes which I then felt.
How then should I account for them?

Sarsefield probably enjoyed his usual
slumber. His repose might not be perfectly
serene, but when he ruminated on
impending or possible calamities, his
tongue did not cleave to his mouth, his
throat was not parched with unquenchable
thirst, he was not incessantly stimulated
to employ his superfluous fertility of
thought in motion. If I trembled for
the safety of her whom I loved, and
whose safety was endangered by being
the daughter of this miscreant, had he
not equal reason to fear for her whom
he also loved, and who, as the sister of
this ruffian, was encompassed by the most

alarming perils. Yet he probably was
calm while I was harassed by anxieties.

Alas! The difference was easily
explained. Such was the beginning of
a series ordained to hurry me to swift
destruction. Such were the primary
tokens of the presence of that power by
whose accursed machinations I was destined
to fall. You are startled at this
declaration. It is one to which you have
been little accustomed. Perhaps you
regard it merely as an effusion of phrenzy.
I know what I am saying. I do not
build upon conjectures and surmises. I
care not indeed for your doubts. Your
conclusion may be fashioned at your
pleasure. Would to heaven that my
belief were groundless, and that I had no
reason to believe my intellects to have
been perverted by diabolical instigations.

I could procure no sleep that night.
After Sarsefield's departure I did not

even lie down. It seemed to me that I
could not obtain the benefits of repose
otherwise than by placing my lady
beyond the possibility of danger.

I met Sarsefield the next day. In
pursuance of the scheme which had been
adopted by us on the preceding evening,
a person was selected and commissioned
to watch the appearance of Wiatte.
The day passed as usual with respect to
the lady. In the evening she was surrounded
by a few friends. Into this
number I was now admitted. Sarsefield
and myself made a part of this company.
Various topics were discussed with ease
and sprightliness. Her societies were
composed of both sexes, and seemed to
have monopolized all the ingenuity and
wit that existed in the metropolis.

After a slight repast the company
dispersed. This separation took place
earlier than usual on account of a slight

indisposition in Mrs. Lorimer. Sarse
field and I went out together. We took
that opportunity of examining our agent,
and receiving no satisfaction from him,
we dismissed him, for that night, enjoining
him to hold himself in readiness for
repeating the experiment to-morrow. My
friend directed his steps homeward, and
I proceeded to execute a commission,
with which I had charged myself.

A few days before, a large sum had
been deposited in the hands of a banker,
for the use of my lady. It was the
amount of a debt which had lately been
recovered. It was lodged here for the
purpose of being paid on demand of her
or her agents. It was my present business
to receive this money. I had
deferred the performance of this engagement
to this late hour, on account of
certain preliminaries which were necessary
to be adjusted.

Having received this money, I prepared
to return home. The inquietude
which had been occasioned by Sarsefield's
intelligence, had not incapacitated me
from performing my usual daily occupations.
It was a theme, to which, at every
interval of leisure from business or discourse,
I did not fail to return. At
those times I employed myself in examining
the subject on all sides; in
supposing particular emergencies, and
delineating the conduct that was proper
to be observed on each. My daily
thoughts were, by no means, so fear-inspiring
as the meditations of the night
had been.

As soon as I left the banker's door,
my meditations fell into this channel. I
again reviewed the recent occurrences,
and imagined the consequences likely to
flow from them. My deductions were
not, on this occasion, peculiarly distressful.

The return of darkness had added
nothing to my apprehensions. I regarded
Wiatte merely as one against whose
malice it was wise to employ the most
vigilant precautions. In revolving these
precautions nothing occurred that was
new. The danger appeared without
unusual aggravations, and the expedients
that offered themselves to my choice,
were viewed with a temper not more
sanguine or despondent than before.

In this state of mind I began and continued
my walk. The distance was considerable
between my own habitation
and that which I had left. My way lay
chiefly through populous and well frequented
streets. In one part of the way,
however, it was at the option of the passenger
either to keep along the large
streets, or considerably to shorten the
journey, by turning into a dark, crooked,

and narrow lane. Being familiar with
every part of this metropolis, and deeming
it advisable to take the shortest and
obscurest road, I turned into the alley.
I proceeded without interruption to the
next turning. One night officer, distinguished
by his usual ensigns, was the
only person who passed me. I had gone
three steps beyond when I perceived a
man by my side. I had scarcely time
to notice this circumstance, when an
hoarse voice exclaimed. “Damn ye villain,
ye're a dead man!”

At the same moment a pistol flashed
at my ear, and a report followed. This,
however, produced no other effect, than,
for a short space, to overpower my senses.
I staggered back, but did not fall.

The ball, as I afterwards discovered,
had grazed my forehead, but without
making any dangerous impression. The
assassin, perceiving that his pistol had

been ineffectual, muttered, in an enraged
tone,---This shall do your business---At
the same time, he drew a knife forth
from his bosom.

I was able to distinguish this action
by the rays of a distant lamp, which
glistened on the blade. All this passed
in an instant. The attack was so abrupt
that my thoughts could not be suddenly
recalled from the confusion into which
they were thrown. My exertions were
mechanical. My will might be said to
be passive, and it was only by retrospect
and a contemplation of consequences,
that I became fully informed of the
nature of the scene.

If my assailant had disappeared as
soon as he had discharged the pistol,
my state of extreme surprise might have
slowly given place to resolution and
activity. As it was, my sense was no
sooner struck by the reflection from the

blade, than my hand, as if by spontaneous
energy, was thrust into my pocket.
I drew forth a pistol---

He lifted up his weapon to strike,
but it dropped from his powerless fingers.
He fell and his groans informed me that
I had managed my arms with more skill
than my adversary. The noise of this
encounter soon attracted spectators.
Lights were brought and my antagonist
discovered bleeding at my feet. I
explained, as briefly as I was able, the
scene which they witnessed. The prostrate
person was raised by two men,
and carried into a public house, nigh at
hand.

I had not lost my presence of mind.
I, at once, perceived the propriety of
administering assistance to the wounded
man. I dispatched, therefore, one of
the by-standers for a surgeon of considerable
eminence, who lived at a small

distance, and to whom I was well known.
The man was carried into an inner apartment
and laid upon the floor. It was
not till now that I had a suitable opportunity
of ascertaining who it was with
whom I had been engaged. I now
looked upon his face. The paleness of
death could not conceal his well known
features. It was Wiatte himself who
was breathing his last groans at my
feet!...

The surgeon, whom I had summoned,
attended; but immediately perceived
the condition of his patient to
be hopeless. In a quarter of an hour
he expired. During this interval, he
was insensible to all around him. I
was known to the surgeon, the landlord
and some of the witnesses. The
case needed little explanation. The
accident reflected no guilt upon me. The

landlord was charged with the care of
the corse till the morning, and I was
allowed to return home, without further
impediment.