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a simpleton-第93章

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Now his pale cheek is flushed; and his eye glitters。  Drink
forever! great ruin of English souls as well as bodies。

He put the poker in the fire; and heated it red hot。

He brought Staines's letter; and softened the sealing…wax with the
hot poker; then with his pen…knife made a neat incision in the wax;
and opened the letter。  He took out the ring; and put it carefully
away。  Then he lighted a cigar; and read the letter; and studied
it。  Many a man; capable of murder in heat of passion; could not
have resisted the pathos of this letter。  Many a Newgate thief;
after reading it; would have felt such pity for the loving husband
who had suffered to the verge of death; and then to the brink of
madness; and for the poor bereaved wife; that he would have taken
the letter down to Gravesend that very night; though he picked two
fresh pockets to defray the expenses of the road。

But this was an egotist。  Good nature had curbed his egotism a
little while; but now vanity and passion had swept away all
unselfish feelings; and the pure egotist alone remained。

Now; the pure egotist has been defined as a man who will burn down
his NEIGHBOR'S house to cook HIMSELF an egg。  Murder is but egotism
carried out to its natural climax。  What is murder to a pure
egotist; especially a brandied one?

I knew an egotist who met a female acquaintance in Newhaven
village。  She had a one…pound note; and offered to treat him。  She
changed this note to treat him。  Fish she gave him; and much
whiskey。  Cost her four shillings。  He ate and drank with her; at
her expense; and his aorta; or principal blood…vessel; being warmed
with her whiskey; he murdered her for the change; the odd sixteen
shillings。

I had the pleasure of seeing that egotist hung; with these eyes。
It was a slice of luck that; I grieve to say; has not occurred
again to me。

So much for a whiskied egotist。

His less truculent but equally remorseless brother in villany; the
brandied egotist; Falcon; could read that poor husband's letter
without blenching; the love and the anticipations of rapture; these
made him writhe a little with jealousy; but they roused not a grain
of pity。  He was a true egotist; blind; remorseless。

In this; his true character; he studied the letter profoundly; and
mastered all the facts; and digested them well。

All manner of diabolical artifices presented themselves to his
brain; barren of true intellect; yet fertile in fraud; in that; and
all low cunning and subtlety; far more than a match for Solomon or
Bacon。

His sinister studies were pursued far into the night。  Then he went
to bed; and his unbounded egotism gave him the sleep a grander
criminal would have courted in vain on the verge of a monstrous and
deliberate crime。

Next day he went to a fashionable tailor; and ordered a complete
suit of black。  This was made in forty…eight hours; the interval
was spent mainly in concocting lies to be incorporated with the
number of minute facts he had gained from Staines's letter; and in
making close imitations of his handwriting。

Thus armed; and crammed with more lies than the 〃Menteur〃 of
Corneille; but not such innocent ones; he went down to Gravesend;
all in deep mourning; with crape round his hat。

He presented himself at the villa。

The servant was all obsequiousness。  Yes; Mrs。 Staines received few
visitors; but she was at home to HIM。  He even began to falter
excuses。  〃Nonsense;〃 said Falcon; and slipped a sovereign into his
hand; 〃you are a good servant; and obey orders。〃

The servant's respect doubled; and he ushered the visitor into the
drawing…room; as one whose name was a passport。  〃Mr。 Reginald
Falcon; madam。〃

Mrs。 Staines was alone。  She rose to meet him。  Her color came and
went; her full eye fell on him; and took in all at a glancethat
he was all in black; and that he had a beard; and looked pale; and
ill at ease。

Little dreaming that this was the anxiety of a felon about to take
the actual plunge into a novel crime; she was rather prepossessed
by it。  The beard gave him dignity; and hid his mean; cruel mouth。
His black suit seemed to say he; too; had lost some one dear to
him; and that was a ground of sympathy。

She received him kindly; and thanked him for taking the trouble to
come again。  She begged him to be seated; and then; womanlike; she
waited for him to explain。

But he was in no hurry; and waited for her。  He knew she would
speak if he was silent。

She could not keep him waiting long。  〃Mr。 Falcon;〃 said she;
hesitating a little; 〃you have something to say to me about him I
have lost。〃

〃Yes;〃 said he softly。  〃I have something I could say; and I think
I ought to say it; but I am afraid: because I don't know what will
be the result。  I fear to make you more unhappy。〃

〃Me! more unhappy?  Me; whose dear husband lies at the bottom of
the ocean。  Other poor wounded creatures have the wretched comfort
of knowing where he liesof carrying flowers to his tomb。  But I
oh; Mr。 Falcon; I am bereaved of all: even his poor remains lost;
lost〃she could say no more。

Then that craven heart began to quake at what he was doing; quaked;
yet persevered; but his own voice quivered; and his cheek grew ashy
pale。  No wonder。  If ever God condescended to pour lightning on a
skunk; surely now was the time。

Shaking and sweating with terror at his own act; he stammered out;
〃Would it be the least comfort to you to know that you are not
denied that poor consolation?  Suppose he died not so miserably as
you think?  Suppose he was picked up at sea; in a dying state?〃

〃Ah!〃

〃Suppose he lingered; nursed by kind and sympathizing hands; that
almost saved him?  Suppose he was laid in hallowed ground; and a
great many tears shed over his grave?〃

〃Ah; that would indeed be a comfort。  And it was to say this you
came。  I thank you。  I bless you。  But; my good; kind friend; you
are deceived。  You don't know my husband。  You never saw him。  He
perished at sea。〃

〃Will it be kind or unkind; to tell you why I think he died as I
tell you; and not at sea?〃

〃Kind; but impossible。  You deceive yourself。  Ah; I see。  You
found some poor sufferer; and were good to him; but it was not my
poor Christie。  Oh; if it were; I should worship you。  But I thank
you as it is。  It was very kind to want to give me this little;
little crumb of comfort; for I know I did not behave well to you;
sir: but you are generous; and have forgiven a poor heart…broken
creature; that never was very wise。〃

He gave her time to cry; and then said to her; 〃I only wanted to be
sure it WOULD be any comfort to you。  Mrs。 Staines; it is true I
did not even know his name; nor yours。  When I met; in this very
room; the great disappointment that has saddened my own life; I
left England directly。  I collected funds; went to Natal; and
turned land…owner and farmer。  I have made a large fortune; but I
need not tell you I am not happy。  Well; I had a yacht; and sailing
from Cape Town to Algoa Bay; I picked up a raft; with a dying man
on it。  He was perishing from exhaustion and exposure。  I got a
little brandy between his lips; and kept him alive。  I landed with
him at once:
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