ARTHUR
63

All my desires in relation to this man are limited to removing his image from my memory, and to avoid meeting with him.. That he did not open the door at my request is now a topic of excitement. Looking into the bottomless pit, where I would be thrown, and alive, was less hated than seeing Colvill's face . Had I known that he had taken refuge in this house, no force would have forced me to enter it. Drowning in a hospital infection, and rushing, yet breathing and jelly, into my grave, was a more supportive fate.

I dwell, with self-condemnation and shame, in this part of my story. To feel such overwhelming anger towards evil, just because we have taken part in such an extraordinary level of evil, is unjustified. To regard the wicked without emotion except compassion, to be active in reclaiming them, in controlling their malice, and in preventing or correcting the diseases they produce, is the only duty. This lesson, as well as a thousand other lessons, I have yet to learn; but I am desperate to live long enough for it or a fruitful purpose.

My emotions with respect to Colvill are wrong, but omnipotent. I started from my bed, and prepared to rush to the road. I am not careful with the fate that will befall me, for there is no worse fate than living under the same roof as the unfortunate man who is seen with so much evil.

I had not set foot on the floor before my rainfall was checked by the sound from above. The door of the study room opened carefully and slowly. This incident only acknowledges one construction, should all barriers be removed. Colvill crawled from his hiding place, and would probably fly quickly from home. My beliefs about his illness are now confused. A forbidden design matches its character and corresponds to the appearance already observed.

I had neither the strength nor the will to hinder his flight. I thought about it by transportation, and once again threw myself into bed, and wrapped my avoided face in the carpet. He may pass through this door, not paying attention to me, and my muffled face will save me from the suffering associated with seeing him.

The above footsteps can be distinguished, although it is evident that they move lightly and carefully. They reached the stairs and went down. The room I was lying in, like the rest of the room, was obscured by shutters. This vagueness now gives way to light, resembling the glittering, pale reflections I have noticed in the workspace. My eyes, though evading the door, slipped out of the folds that covered the rest of my head, and observed the signs of Colvill's approach, floated on the wall.

My feverish disorder increased as he approached. He reached the door, and stopped. The light stopped for a moment. He is now entering the apartment. My emotions suddenly rose to heights that could not be controlled. I imagined that she was approaching the bed, and was staring at me. At the same time, with an involuntary impulse, I removed my cover, and, turning my face away, directed my gaze at my guest.

It was as I thought. The figure, raising the candle in his right hand, and gazing at the bed, with straightness and demeanor that showed frightening hope and agonizing doubt, was now visible. One look communicated to my senses all parts of this incredible vision. A sink in my heart, as if it had been pierced by a dagger, caught me. This was not enough: I was screaming, too sad and loud to not surprise the attention of the passengers, if anything, at that moment, was passing through the street.

Heaven seems to have decreed that this period should be filled with trials of my balance and steadfastness. The test of my courage was once again used to cover me with contempt and regret. This second time, my delusion conjures up ghosts, and I shudder as if an abandoned grave and an unsettled dead person haunts my pillow.

His face and shape did have a supernatural attitude, but it did not belong to Colvill, but to Welbeck.

The first is the most reasonable conclusion. It immediately aroused suspicion, that his plunge into the water was a hoax, meant to build confidence in his death. Her own story has shown that she is well-versed in fraud, and flexible towards crime. But is he not related to Colvill ? and what, besides compact evil, can bind such people?

While musing, Welbeck's face and gestures showed emotions too strong to speak. The look he was looking at me was unstable and wild. He walked along the floor, stopped at all times, and stared excitedly at me. The conflict of lust made him shut up. Finally, advancing to the bed, on the side where I was now sitting, he spoke to me:

Whatisthis? Are you here? Contrary to pestilence, are you moved by demons to haunt me, like the ghost of my transgressions, and cover me with shame? What should I do with that brave yet innocent front? With a confident fool and obedient, yet upright and invincible, spirit? Is there no way to avoid your pursuit? Should I dip my hand, a second time, in blood; and dig a grave for you by Watson's side?"

These words were heard quietly. I was suspicious and pitying the man, but I was not afraid of him. His words and appearance showed no cruelty rather than madness. I looked at him with a loving and compassionate look. I spoke softly and calmly:

Mr. Welbeck, you poor and criminal. God willing I can restore you to happiness and virtue! but, despite my strong will, I have no power to change your habits or save you from misery.

I believe you're dead. I am happy to find myself wrong. As long as you live, there is room to hope that your mistakes will be healed; and the turmoil and unrest that hitherto befall your guilty advances will vanish with you returning to a better path.

From me, you need not be afraid. If your well-being will be promoted by my silence on your historical matters, my silence will be inviolable. I do not take my promise lightly. The promise was given, and will not be withdrawn.

This meeting is ordinary. Since I believe you are dead, it is impossible otherwise. You are wrong, if you think that there is an injury that will happen to you from my life; but you do not need to throw away that mistake. Since my death is coming, I'm not resisting you adopting the belief that the event is a lucky break for you.