peril
his life to get sight of his book on the coming Derby. I was curious to
ascertain why he should have surrounded himself with men so obviously
his enemies, and he owned it was an act prompted by a sort of dogged
courage, to show them that he did not fear them. Nor was this the only
motive, as he let out by an inadvertence; he cherished the hope of
detecting an intrigue between one of his guests and his wife, as the
means of liberating himself from a tie long distasteful to him.

"One of the party had associated himself with him in this project, and
promised him all his assistance. Here was a web of guilt and treachery,
entangled enough to engage a deep interest! For the man himself, I cared
nothing; there was in his nature that element of low selfishness that
is fatal to all sense of sympathy. His thoughts and speculations ranged
only over suspicions and distrusts, and the only hopes he ever expressed
were for the punishment of his enemies. Scarcely, indeed, did a visit
pass in which he did not compel me to repeat a solemn oath that the
mode of his death should be explored, and his poisoners--if there were
such--be brought to trial. As he drew nigh his last, his sufferings gave
little intervals of rest, and his mind occasionally wandered. Even in
his ravings, however, revenge never left him, and he would break out
into wild rhapsodies in imitation of the details of justice, calling on
the prisoners, and by name, to say whether they would plead guilty
or not; asking them to stand forward, and then reciting with hurried
impetuosity the terms of an indictment for murder. To these there would
succeed a brief space of calm reason, in which he told me that his
daughter--a child by a former wife--was amply provided for, and that
her fortune was so far out of the reach of his enemies that it-lay in
America, where her uncle, her guardian, resided. He gave me his name and
address, and in my pocket-book--this old and much-used pocket-book
that you see--he wrote a few tremulous lines, accrediting me to this
gentleman as the one sole friend beside him in his last struggles. As he
closed the book, he said, 'As you hope to die in peace, swear to me not
to neglect this, nor leave my poor child a beggar.' And I swore it.

"His death took place that night; the inquest followed on the day after.
My suspicions were correct; he had died of corrosive sublimate;
the quantity would have killed a dozen men. There was a trial and
a convic