A Father's Griefs

But one fact may be stated--one of many--which seemed to give
a sanction to my suspicions, will help to justify my course, and
which, at the time, was terribly conclusive, to my reason, of the
things which I feared. She spoke audibly the name of Edgerton,
twice, thrice, while she slept beside me, in tones very faint, it
is true, but still distinct enough. The faintness of her utterance,
gave the tones an emphasis of tenderness which perhaps was
unintended. Twice, thrice, that fatal name; and then, what a sigh
from the full volume of a surcharged heart. Let any one conceive my
situation--with my feelings, intense on all subjects--my suspicions
already so thoroughly awakened; and then fancy what they must have
been on hearing that utterance; from the unguarded lips of slumber;
from the wife lying beside him; and of the name of him on whom
suspicion already rested. I hung over the sleeper, breathless,
almost gasping, finally, in the effort to contain my breath--in
the hope to hear something, however slight, which was to confirm
finally, or finally end my doubts. I heard no more; but did
more seem to be necessary? What jealous heart had not found this
sufficiently conclusive? And that deep-drawn sigh, sobbing, as
of a heart breaking with the deferred hope, and the dream of youth
baffled at one sweeping, severing blow.

I rose. I could no longer subdue my emotions to the necessary
degree of watchfulness. I trod the chamber till daylight. Then,
I dressed myself and went out into the street. I had no distinct
object. A vague persuasion only, that I must do something--that
something must be done--that, in short, it was necessary to force
this exhausting drama to its fit conclusion. Of course William
Edgerton was my object. As yet, how to bring about the issue, was
a problem which my mind was not prepared to solve. Whether I was
to stab or shoot him; whether we were to go through the tedious
processes of the duel; to undergo the fatigue of preliminaries,
or to shorten them by sudden rencounter; these were topics which
filled my thoughts confusedly; upon which I had no clear conviction;
not because I did not attempt to fix upon a course, but from a sheer
inability to think at all. My whole brain was on fire; a chaotic
mass, such as rushes up from the unstopped vents of the volcano--fire,
stones, and lava--but dense smoke enveloping the whole.