In a fever of expectancy I sprang to the door, locked it, placed my back
against it, and bent a watchful gaze upon my struggling master. Already
my fingers were itching to begin their murderous work.

"Oh, what can be the matter!" exclaimed by aunt, shrinking from me, and
following with her frightened eyes the direction of mine. My breath was
coming in short, quick gasps now, and my excitement was almost
uncontrollable. My aunt cried out:

"Oh, do not look so! You appal me! Oh, what can the matter be? What is
it you see? Why do you stare so? Why do you work your fingers like
that?"

"Peace, woman!" I said, in a hoarse whisper. "Look elsewhere; pay no
attention to me; it is nothing--nothing. I am often this way. It will
pass in a moment. It comes from smoking too much."

My injured lord was up, wild-eyed with terror, and trying to hobble
toward the door. I could hardly breathe, I was so wrought up. My aunt
wrung her hands, and said:

"Oh, I knew how it would be; I knew it would come to this at last!
Oh, I implore you to crush out that fatal habit while it may yet be time!
You must not, you shall not be deaf to my supplications longer!"
My struggling Conscience showed sudden signs of weariness! "Oh, promise
me you will throw off this hateful slavery of tobacco!" My Conscience
began to reel drowsily, and grope with his hands--enchanting spectacle!
"I beg you, I beseech you, I implore you! Your reason is deserting you!
There is madness in your eye! It flames with frenzy! Oh, hear me, hear
me, and be saved! See, I plead with you on my very knees!" As she sank