She retired soon. Her departure was followed by that of Edgerton
first, and next of Wharton. Mrs. Porterfield had already gone. I
was alone at the entrance of our cottage. Not alone! My demon was
with me--suggestive of his pangs as ever--full of subtlety, and
filling me with the darkest imaginings. The destroyer of my peace
was in my dwelling. My wife may or may not be innocent. Happy for
her if she is, but how can that be known? It mattered little to
me in the excited mood which possessed me. Let any man fancy, as I
did, that one, partaking of his hospitality, lying in the chamber
which adjoined his own, yet meditated the last injury in the power
of man to inflict against the peace and honor of his protector. Let
him fancy this, and then ask what would be his own feelings--what
his course?
Still, there is a sentiment of justice which is natural to every
bosom with whom education has not been utter perversion. I believed
much against Edgerton; I suspected my wife; I had seen much to offend
my affections; much to alarm my fears; yet I KNEW nothing which
was conclusive. That last event, the occurrence of the afternoon,
seemed to prove not that the two were guilty, but that my wife
loved the man who meditated guilt. This belief, doubtful so long,
and against which I had really striven, seemed now to be concluded.
I had heard her scream; I had seen her tenderly sustaining his form;
I had felt her emotions, when, the danger being over, her feminine
nature gained the ascendancy and she fainted in my arms. I could
no longer doubt, that if she was still pure in mind, she was no
longer insensible to a passion which must lessen that purity with
every added moment of its permitted exercise. Still, even with this
conviction, something more was necessary to justify me in what I
designed. There must be no doubt. I must see. I must have sufficient
proof, for, as my vengeance shall be unsparing, my provocation
must be complete. That it might be so I had brought Edgerton into
the house. Something more was necessary. Time and opportunity must
be allowed him. This I insisted on, though, more than once, as I
walked under the dark whispering groves which girdled our cottage,
and caught a glimpse of the light in Edgerton's chamber, my demon
urged me to go in and strangle him. I had strength to resist this
suggestion, but the struggle was a long one.
I did not soon retire to rest. When I did, I still remained sleepless.
But Julia slept. In her sleep she threw herself on my bosom, and
seemed to cling about and clasp me as if with some fear of separation.
Had I not fancied that this close embrace was meant for another
than myself, I had been more indulgent to the occasional moanings
of distress that escaped her lips. But, thinking as I did, I forced
her from me, and in doing so she wakened.