In my dejection I took a new view of the night's outrage. It was
no common burglar's work, for what had I worth stealing? It was
the work of my unseen enemies, who dogged me in the street; they
alone knew why; the doctor had called these hallucinations, and I
had forced myself to agree with the doctor; but I could not deceive
myself in my present mood. I remembered the steps, the steps - the
stopping when I stopped - the drawing away in the crowded streets
- the closing up in quieter places. Why had I never looked round?
Why? Because till to-day I had thought it mere vulgar curiosity;
because a few had bored me, I had imagined the many at my heels; but
now I knew - I knew! It was the few again: a few who hated me even
unto death.

The idea took such a hold upon me that I did not trouble my head
with reasons and motives. Certain persons had designs upon my
life; that was enough for me. On the whole, the thought was
stimulating; it set a new value on existence, and it roused a certain
amount of spirit even in me. I would give the fellows another chance
before I left town. They should follow me once more, and this time
to some purpose. Last night they had left a knife on me; to-night
I would have a keepsake ready for them.

Hitherto I had gone unarmed since my landing, which, perhaps, was
no more than my duty as a civilized citizen. On Black Hill Flats,
however, I had formed another habit, of which I should never have
broken myself so easily, but for the fact that all the firearms I
ever had were reddening and rotting at the bottom of the Atlantic
Ocean. I now went out and bought me such a one as I had never
possessed before.