It
was a feeling of blood, a sensation like that of grasping the strangling
throat of an enemy. I started from it with horror. For the first time
a thought of murder had risen up in my bosom; and I quenched it with the
natural abhorrence of a nature prone to mildness and peace.
"I reached my chamber, and, exhausted alike in mind and body, I threw
myself upon my bed, but not to sleep. A sense of my utter desolation
and loneliness came over me, blended with a feeling of bitter and
unmerited wrong. I recollected the many manifestations of affection
which I had received from her who had that day given herself, in the
presence of Heaven, to another; and I called to mind the thousand
sacrifices I had made to her lightest caprices, to every shade and
variation of her temper; and then came the maddening consciousness of
the black ingratitude which had requited such tenderness. Then, too,
came the thought, bitter to a pride like mine, that the cold world had a
knowledge of my misfortunes; that I should be pointed out as a
disappointed man, a subject for the pity of some, and the scorn and
jestings of others. Rage and shame mingled with the keen agony of
outraged feeling. 'I will not endure it,' I said, mentally, springing
from my bed and crossing the chamber with a flushed brow and a strong
step; 'never!' And I ground my teeth upon each other, while a fierce
light seemed to break in upon my brain; it was the light of the
Tempter's smile, and I almost laughed aloud as the horrible thought of
suicide started before me.
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