The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1849-06-23
ELKT0N MD. SATURDAY MORNING JUNE % l849

leaden heaviness, the very agony which
naturally came to- me when l heard and
believed I was poisoned l had nothing Of
the activity and wakefulness of healthful
agony; it was plain that l was beginning
to labor under the effects of some powerful
narcotic.
'Fool.' exclaimed Savall, syou must be
aware that l shall certainly have the
pocket-book now whether you like it,
whether you consent or not, you are rap
idly becoming incapacitated, and before
long you shall be totally unconscious, and
! shall meet little resistance, indeed, in TAX
ing the pocket-book.'
After this, 1 distinctly remember how
the whole scene became a delirous fantasy.
I thought 1 had suddenly gone back again
to the worst period of the fever from which
l so recently rose; 1 drew out the pocket
book to burn it, and then, when l should
die, he, Savall, would at least would get
no benefit from it; but as spoke I had
hardly strength to rise from my seat. l
rose, however, and tottered to the fireplace
but there close to it stood Savall, with the
bare, cold pistol raised in his hand
'Any disturbance-any attempt at dis
turbance, and your death shall be speedier,'
he said.
I do not know what I answered, or
whether l answered at all. | looked at
the fire, however, and saw that it was to
all appearance dead, not single glimmer
appeared-there was only pile Of cnders
and ashes. How I longed for strong
blaze, that I might suddenly throw all my
bank notes into it, and see them consumed
at once before my face, and then Savall
would be disappointed OF the money, though
my life he might have. My first feeling
was one of heroic indifference to life; I
thought could die with ease, provided
Savall were banked in his expectations of
obtaining the pocket-book. But how could
it be removed from his gresp! Feeble,
sinking as was, I thought on the matter
until an utter incapacity of thinking and
planning settled down on my brain. But
what could I do2 There he sat, with his
moveless gaze-I could not breathe with
out his noting every respiration.
As the cold horrible numbness and drow
siness crept gradually over me, and some
thing like the presence of death came, a
feeling of fear and dislike to the grave
awoke. Life seemed warm, bright, and
delightful; innumcrable happy scenes,
which ! had recently been planning, APP
pcared into very existence around me with
most tempting brilliancy, which thrilled
all the powers of grief and despair within
ne; for had known so little of happiness
yet in life, reasoned, and now at last,
when l might be capable of gladdening
others and myself, just now to die.
sFool-fool, do you yet choose dying?
will you not swallow this. You will have
money enough remaining after you give
ne my share, you will have number Of
thousands still, and you are young, and
made for enjoying happiness
Though 1 knew Savall mus: have utter
ed the words, yet even now, as [ recollect
them, it seemed as ifinvisible spirits around
me had spoken them, divining my thoughts,
and counselling me accordingly.
Next I rccollect there was deep, fright
ful silence; | heard no one single sound
no clock striking-no voice speaking or
calling-not one imitation that was in
the midst of a many peopled city; / could
not believe that L was in London. l
thought l had been carried away TO some
deep abyss, down, down below the surface
of the living world, in the centre of the
cold, voiceless earth, away far from all hui
man society, with only one of the black
spirits of evil guarding me. For some mo-
ments | fancied l was condemned for ever
to that terrible fate, with the eyes of Savall
alone to look upon me without ceasing
throughout all duration.
Afterwards widely-different magma
ton possessed me with even stronger pow
er. Thought beheld most wildly all the
scenery connected with the solitary coun-
try place in the North of Ireland where l
was born the narrow river, the rocks and
trees hanging over it; the very boat in
which had SO often rowed with we'll
remembered oar; the rough, uncultivated
mountain, rising abruptly from the water,
with the rich luxurient, yellow furze, and
the goats, browsing, just as they used to do
when I was boy, before had dreamed
of leading literary life in London-even
the glass in the windows of my fathers
house shone and sparkled exactly as it al
ways did in the beautiful summer sunset.
I could have sworn that the whole scene
was before me but was not gazing on it
with the human feelings had when there
last-it was with such emotions as the
disembodied may be supposed to experience
that I now looked.
miserable fool!-idiot you still per-
sist in choosing death in preference to life.
Come, it is not even yet too late for wisdom
one draught, and you are safe and better
@Io,, L