Page:Edgar Huntly, or The Sleep Walker.djvu/251

 dismay were strongly written on his countenance: he seemed totally unconscious of my presence; his eyes were fixed upon the floor, and, as he continued to move across the room, he heaved forth deep sighs.

This deportment was mournful and mysterious: it was little in unison with those appearances which he wore at our parting, and must have been caused by some event that had since happened. My curiosity impelled me to recall him from his reverie. I rose, and seizing him by the arm, looked at him with an air of inquisitive anxiety: it was needless to speak.

He noticed my movement; and turning towards me, spoke, in a tone of some resentment—"Why did you deceive me? Did you not say Clithero was dead?"

"I said so because it was my belief. Know you any thing to the contrary?—Heaven grant that he be still alive, and that our mutual efforts may restore him to peace!"

"Heaven grant," replied my friend, with a vehemence that bordered upon fury—"Heaven grant that he may live thousands of years, and know not in their long course a moment's respite from remorse and from anguish! But this prayer is fruitless: he is not dead, but death hovers over him. Should he live, he will live only to defy justice and perpetrate new horrors. My skill might perhaps save him; but a finger shall not be moved to avert his fate.

"Little did I think that the wretch whom my friends rescued from the power of the savages, and brought wounded and expiring hither, was Clithero. They sent for me in haste to afford him surgical assistance. I found him stretched upon the floor below, deserted, helpless, and bleeding: the moment I beheld him he was recognised. The last of evils was to look upon the face of this assassin; but that evil is passed, and shall never be endured again.

"Rise and come with me: accommodation is prepared for you at Walcot's. Let us leave this house; and the moment you are able to perform a journey, abandon for ever this district."

I could not readily consent to this proposal. Clithero had been delivered from captivity; but was dying for want