Chapter XVIII
I had imperfectly recovered my strength, when I was informed of thearrival of my mother's brother, Thomas Cambridge. Ten years since, hewent to Europe, and was a surgeon in the British forces in Germany,during the whole of the late war. After its conclusion, some connectionthat he had formed with an Irish officer, made him retire into Ireland.Intercourse had been punctually maintained by letters with his sister'schildren, and hopes were given that he would shortly return to hisnative country, and pass his old age in our society. He was now in anevil hour arrived.
I desired an interview with him for numerous and urgent reasons. Withthe first returns of my understanding I had anxiously sought informationof the fate of my brother. During the course of my disease I had neverseen him; and vague and unsatisfactory answers were returned to all myinquires. I had vehemently interrogated Mrs. Hallet and her husband, andsolicited an interview with this unfortunate man; but they mysteriouslyinsinuated that his reason was still unsettled, and that hiscircumstances rendered an interview impossible. Their reserve on theparticulars of this destruction, and the author of it, was equallyinvincible.
For some time, finding all my efforts fruitless, I had desisted fromdirect inquiries and solicitations, determined, as soon as my strengthwas sufficiently renewed, to pursue other means of dispelling myuncertainty. In this state of things my uncle's arrival and intention tovisit me were announced. I almost shuddered to behold the face of thisman. When I reflected on the disasters that had befallen us, I was halfunwilling to witness that dejection and grief which would be disclosedin his countenance. But I believed that all transactions had beenthoroughly disclosed to him, and confided in my importunity to extortfrom him the knowledge that I sought.
I had no doubt as to the person of our enemy; but the motives that urgedhim to perpetrate these horrors, the means that he used, and his presentcondition, were totally unknown. It was reasonable to expect someinformation on this head, from my uncle. I therefore waited his comingwith impatience. At length, in the dusk of the evening, and in mysolitary chamber, this meeting took place.
This man was our nearest relation, and had ever treated us with theaffection of a parent. Our meeting, therefore, could not be withoutoverflowing tenderness and gloomy joy. He rather encouraged thanrestrained the tears that I poured out in his arms, and took uponhimself the task of comforter. Allusions to recent disasters could notbe long omitted. One topic facilitated the admission of another. Atlength, I mentioned and deplored the ignorance in which I had beenkept respecting my brother's destiny, and the circumstances of ourmisfortunes. I entreated him to tell me what was Wieland's condition,and what progress had been made in detecting or punishing the author ofthis unheard-of devastation.
"The author!" said he; "Do you know the author?"
"Alas!" I answered, "I am too well acquainted with him. The story ofthe grounds of my suspicions would be painful and too long. I am notapprized of the extent of your present knowledge. There are none butWieland, Pleyel, and myself, who are able to relate certain facts."
"Spare yourself the pain," said he. "All that Wieland and Pleyel cancommunicate, I know already. If any thing of moment has fallen withinyour own exclusive knowledge, and the relation be not too arduous foryour present strength, I confess I am desirous of hearing it. Perhapsyou allude to one by the name of Carwin. I will anticipate yourcuriosity by saying, that since these disasters, no one has seen orheard of him. His agency is, therefore, a mystery still unsolved."
I readily complied with his request, and related as distinctly asI could, though in general terms, the events transacted in thesummer-house and my chamber. He listened without apparent surprizeto the tale of Pleyel's errors and suspicions, and with augmentedseriousness, to my narrative of the warnings and inexplicable vision,and the letter found upon the table. I waited for his comments.
"You gather from this," said he, "that Carwin is the author of all thismisery."
"Is it not," answered I, "an unavoidable inference? But what know yourespecting it? Was it possible to execute this mischief without witnessor coadjutor? I beseech you to relate to me, when and why Mr. Hallet wassummoned to the scene, and by whom this disaster was first suspectedor discovered. Surely, suspicion must have fallen upon some one, andpursuit was made."
My uncle rose from his seat, and traversed the floor with hasty steps.His eyes were fixed upon the ground, and he seemed buried in perplexity.At length he paused, and said with an emphatic tone, "It is true; theinstrument is known. Carwin may have plotted, but the execution wasanother's. That other is found, and his deed is ascertained."
"Good heaven!" I exclaimed, "what say you? Was not Carwin the assassin?Could any hand but his have carried into act this dreadful purpose?"
"Have I not said," returned he, "that the performance was another's?Carwin, perhaps, or heaven, or insanity, prompted the murderer; butCarwin is unknown. The actual performer has, long since, been calledto judgment and convicted, and is, at this moment, at the bottom of adungeon loaded with chains."
I lifted my hands and eyes. "Who then is this assassin? By what means,and whither was he traced? What is the testimony of his guilt?"
"His own, corroborated with that of a servant-maid who spied the murderof the children from a closet where she was concealed. The magistratereturned from your dwelling to your brother's. He was employed inhearing and recording the testimony of the only witness, when thecriminal himself, unexpected, unsolicited, unsought, entered the hall,acknowledged his guilt, and rendered himself up to justice.
"He has since been summoned to the bar. The audience was composed ofthousands whom rumours of this wonderful event had attracted from thegreatest distance. A long and impartial examination was made, and theprisoner was called upon for his defence. In compliance with this callhe delivered an ample relation of his motives and actions." There hestopped.
I besought him to say who this criminal was, and what the instigationsthat compelled him. My uncle was silent. I urged this inquiry with newforce. I reverted to my own knowledge, and sought in this some basis toconjecture. I ran over the scanty catalogue of the men whom I knew; Ilighted on no one who was qualified for ministering to malice like this.Again I resorted to importunity. Had I ever seen the criminal? Was itsheer cruelty, or diabolical revenge that produced this overthrow?
He surveyed me, for a considerable time, and listened to myinterrogations in silence. At length he spoke: "Clara, I have known theeby report, and in some degree by observation. Thou art a being of novulgar sort. Thy friends have hitherto treated thee as a child. Theymeant well, but, perhaps, they were unacquainted with thy strength. Iassure myself that nothing will surpass thy fortitude.
"Thou art anxious to know the destroyer of thy family, his actions, andhis motives. Shall I call him to thy presence, and permit him to confessbefore thee? Shall I make him the narrator of his own tale?"
I started on my feet, and looked round me with fearful glances, as ifthe murderer was close at hand. "What do you mean?" said I; "put an end,I beseech you, to this suspence."
"Be not alarmed; you will never more behold the face of this criminal,unless he be gifted with supernatural strength, and sever like threadsthe constraint of links and bolts. I have said that the assassin wasarraigned at the bar, and that the trial ended with a summons from thejudge to confess or to vindicate his actions. A reply was immediatelymade with significance of gesture, and a tranquil majesty, which denotedless of humanity than godhead. Judges, advocates and auditors werepanic-struck and breathless with attention. One of the hearersfaithfully recorded the speech. There it is," continued he, putting aroll of papers in my hand, "you may read it at your leisure."
With these words my uncle left me alone. My curiosity refused me amoment's delay. I opened the papers, and read as follows.