He sought rest in the gloom and
solitude of his chamber; but hours passed on, during which the
conscience-stricken culprit endured the horrors of accumulated guilt.
Sometimes he opened the casement, gazing on the dark heavens, until he
thought they were peopled, and he held converse with unseen and terrible
things. Inarticulate murmurs broke from his lips. A few words might
occasionally be distinguished--"Murder!--An old man too--The
children--they are at rest!" A gleam of pleasure passed over his haggard
features.
"I am now"--looking round--"now master of all."
"All?" breathed a low voice in the chamber.
The cringing wretch was speechless. Sense almost forsook him: horror
fastened on his spirit, while he turned his eyes, as if by some
resistless constraint, towards the place from whence the voice had
issued. Near his couch was a curiously-wrought cabinet inlaid with ivory
and gems of the most costly workmanship. An heir-loom of the house, it
was highly valued, and tradition reports that it was one of those spoils
on which our forefathers cast a longing glance in the wars of the Holy
Sepulchre. Be this as it may, every document of value connected with the
family was here deposited.
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