through the long hours of a night in which he had slept but little, and
waked to think on what his feverish dreams had dwelt upon--the fate of
his unhappy foe, perishing slowly beside his useless treasure. More than
once, indeed, the impulse had been strong upon him that very morning to
send word anonymously where Solomon was to be found to the police at
Plymouth. Remorse had not as yet become chronic with him, but it seized
him by fits and starts.

There had been a time when he had looked (through his prison bars) on
all men with rage and hatred; but now he caught himself, as it were, at
attempts at self-justification with respect to the retribution he had
exacted even from his enemy. Had he not been rendered miserable, he
argued, supremely wretched, for more than half his lifetime, through
this man's agency? for it was certain that Solomon had sworn falsely, in
the spirit if not in the letter, and caused him to be convicted of a
crime which his rival was well aware he had not in intention committed.
His conduct toward him on the occasion of his arrest had also been most
brutal and insulting; while, after conviction had been obtained, this
wretch's malice, as Mr. Dodge had stated, had known no cessation. In the
arms of his young bride he had been deaf to the piteous cry of a mother
beseeching for her only son.

But, on the other hand, had not he (Richard) deeply wronged this man in
the first instance? Had he not robbed him--for so much at least must
Solomon have known--of the love of his promised wife? If happiness from
such an ill-assorted union was not to have been anticipated, still, had
he not rendered it impossible? If their positions had been reversed,
would not he have exacted expiation from such an offender to the
uttermost? He would doubtless have scorned to twist the law as Solomon
had done, and make it, as it were, the crooked instrument of his
revenge. He would not, of course, have evoked its aid at all. But was
that to be placed to his credit? He had put himself above the law
throughout his life; he had never acknowledged any authority save that
of his own selfish will; nay, he owned to himself that his bitterness
against his unhappy victim had been caused not so much by the wrong he
had suffered at his hands as by the contempt which he (Richard) had
entertained for him. Without materials such as his father had possessed
to back his pretensions he had imagined himself a sort of irresponsible
and sovereign