The rumor that I am about to become the happy
husband of a young lady whom I love, has driven madam nearly frantic,
and she has already shown her willingness to stop at nothing, by
imprisoning Swartz, and starving him until he produced the stolen
paper. Swartz is dead, however; the paper is lost; I and madam are both
in hot pursuit of the document. Which will find it, I know not. She, of
course, wishes to suppress it--I wish to possess it. Where is it? If
you will tell me, friend, I will make you a deed for half my estate!
You have been with me to visit that strange woman, Amanda, as a forlorn
hope. What will come I know not; but I trust that an all-merciful
Providence will not withdraw its hand from me, and now dash all my
hopes, at the very moment when the cup is raised to my lips! If so, I
will accept all, submissively, as the just punishment of my great
crime--a crime, I pray God to pardon me, as the result of mad
desperation, and not as a wanton and wilful defiance of His Almighty
authority! I have wept tears of blood for that act. I have turned and
tossed on my bed, in the dark hours of night, groaning and pleading for
pardon. I have bitterly expiated throughout long years, that brief
tragedy. I have humbled myself in the dust before the Lord of all
worlds, and, falling at the feet of the all-merciful Saviour, besought
His divine compassion.
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