"Unhappy man!" she mentally cried; "dost thou imagine that these
glittering heaps of metal will purchase the redemption of a soul like
thine, or avert the certainty of future punishment?--for never was the
parable of the servant who buried his talent in the dust more fully
exemplified than in thee."
"What, not enough?" growled forth the miser. "By heavens! thou hast a
human conscience. But wait patiently, and I will show you more--aye,
more--my brother's portion, and my own. Ha, ha! I tricked him there. The
old man's heart failed him at the last. He was afraid of you. Yes, yes,
he was afraid of the devil! It was I formed the plan. It was I guided
the dead hand. Shall I burn for that?"
Then, as if suddenly struck with a violent pain, he shrieked out, "Ah,
ah! my brain is cloven with a bolt of fire. I cannot bear this! Algernon
mocks my agonies--laughs at my cries--and tells me that he has a fair
wife and plenty of gold, in spite of my malice. How did he get it? Did
he rob me?"
Elinor shrunk back aghast from this wild burst of delirium; and the
miser, rising from his knees, began re-ascending the stairs. This task
he performed with difficulty, and often reeled forward with extreme pain
and weakness. After traversing several empty chambers, he entered what
had once been the state apartment, and stooping down, he drew from
beneath the faded furniture of the bed a strong mahogany brass-bound
chest, which he cautiously opened, and displayed to his wondering
companion a richer store of wealth than that on which she had so lately
gazed.
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