It took me half an hour, but at the end of that
time I had succeeded. Nighthawk listened, with bent head, and pale face
covered with drops of cold perspiration, to my orders. These orders
were to have the horses put to the carriage, which was to be ready at
my call; then to proceed with a trusty servant, or more if necessary,
to a private spot on the river, which I described to him; dig a grave
of full length and depth; and when his work was finished, return and
report the fact to me, cautioning the servant or servants to say
nothing.
"This work, I calculated, would be completed about midnight--and at
midnight I promised myself an interview with my friend Mortimer.
"Nighthawk groaned as he listened to my cold and resolute voice, giving
minute instructions for the work of darkness--looked at my face, to
discover if there were any signs of yielding there--doubtless saw none
whatever--and disappeared, uttering a groan, to carry out the orders
which he had received from me.
"Then I took the two foils from the top of the bookcase where they were
kept; broke off the buttons by placing my heel upon them; procured a
file, and sharpened the points until they would have penetrated through
an ordinary plank. That was sufficient, I said to myself--they would
pierce a man's breast--and placing them on the buffet, I went to a
drawer and took out a loaded revolver, which I thrust into my breast.
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