Falkland, with a premeditation to which he had given the appearance of
accident, had taken care to send with me a guard to attend upon his
prisoner. I seemed as if conducting to one of those fortresses, famed in
the history of despotism, from which the wretched victim is never known
to come forth alive; and when I entered my chamber, I felt as if I were
entering a dungeon. I reflected that I was at the mercy of a man,
exasperated at my disobedience, and who was already formed to cruelty by
successive murders. My prospects were now closed; I was cut off for ever
from pursuits that I had meditated with ineffable delight; my death
might be the event of a few hours. I was a victim at the shrine of
conscious guilt, that knew neither rest nor satiety; I should be blotted
from the catalogue of the living, and my fate remain eternally a secret;
the man who added my murder to his former crimes, would show himself the
next morning, and be hailed with the admiration and applause of his
species.

In the midst of these terrible imaginations, one idea presented itself
that alleviated my feelings. This was the recollection of the strange
and unaccountable tranquillity which Mr. Falkland had manifested, when
he discovered me in company with Mr. Forester. I was not deceived by
this. I knew that the calm was temporary, and would be succeeded by a
tumult and whirlwind of the most dreadful sort. But a man under the
power of such terrors as now occupied me catches at every reed. I said
to myself, "This tranquillity is a period it is incumbent upon me to
improve; the shorter its duration may be found, the more speedy am I
obliged to be in the use of it." In a word, I took the resolution,
because I already stood in fear of the vengeance of Mr. Falkland, to
risk the possibility of provoking it in a degree still more inexpiable,
and terminate at once my present state of uncertainty. I had now opened
my case to Mr. Forester, and he had given me positive assurances of his