I remembered all my wrongs; I said to myself this
was the man who had made my life a shipwreck, and had sent my soul to
perdition. He stood still, frozen to the spot, gazing into my face with
eyes that gleamed through the gloom like lurid fire. 'I am Arabel Vere,
whom you thought you murdered!' I hissed in his ear. 'The river could not
hold my secret! And thus I avenge myself for all my wrongs!'
"I struck one blow; he fell to the ground with a gurgling groan. I knew
that I had killed him, and I felt no remorse at the thought. It seemed a
very pleasant thing to contemplate. I stooped over him, to assure myself
that he was dead, and touched his forehead. It was growing cold. It
struck me through and through with a chill of unutterable horror. I fled,
like one mad, from the place. I entered a train of cars, which were just
going down to the city, and in the morning I left New York and came here.
I fell sick. The terrible excitement had been too much for me, and for
weeks I lay in a stupor which was the twin-sister of death. But a strong
constitution triumphed, and I came slowly back to health. I had some
money on my person at the time I was taken ill, and happening to fall
into the hands of a kind-hearted Irish woman, at whose door I had asked
for a glass of water, I was nursed with the care that saved my life.
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