Confession - Page 199/274

It might be Edgerton or not. I was morally sure it was. By grappling

with him, in such a situation, I should bring the affair to a final

issue, though it might not be a murderous one. But of that I did

not think; I went forward to do something; what that something was

to be, it was left for time and chance to determine. But, suddenly,

as I opened the door, the music ceased. Stepping into the yard, I

heard the sound as of a falling body. I naturally concluded that

he had heard the opening of the door, and had suffered himself to

drop down to the ground. I took for granted that he had descended

on the opposite side of the yard and within the enclosure of a

neighbor. I leaped the fence, hurried to the tree, traversed the

grounds, and found nobody. I returned, reached my own premises,

and found the gate open which opened upon the street. He had gone

then in that direction. I turned into this street, posted with

all speed to the corner of the square and met only the watchman.

I asked, but he had seen nobody. The street was perfectly quiet,

I returned, reascended to my chamber, found Julia now awake, and

evidently much agitated. She had arisen in my absence, and was only

about to re-enter the bed when I rushed up stairs.

What was I to think? What fear? I was too conscious of the

suspicious nature of my thoughts and fears to suffer myself to ask

any questions--and she, unhappily for both of us--she said nothing.

Had she but spoken--had she but uttered the natural inquiry--"Did

you hear that strange music, husband?"--how much easier had been

her extrication. But she was silent, and I was again let loose upon

a wide sea of fears and doubts and damnable apprehensions. Once

more, and now with a feeling which would not have made me forbear

the use of any weapon, however deadly, I re-examined my own enclosure,

but in vain. The horrible thought which possessed me was that he

had even penetrated the dwelling while I was seeking him in the

street; that they had met; and how was I to know the degree of

tenderness which had marked their meeting and sweetness to their

adieus!