my tomahawk.

These images, mingled with those which the contemplation of futurity
suggested, floated, for a time, in my brain, but at length gave place to
sleep.




Chapter XIII.


Since my return home, my mind had been fully occupied by schemes and
reflections relative to Clithero. The project suggested by thee, and to
which I had determined to devote my leisure, was forgotten, or
remembered for a moment and at wide intervals. What, however, was nearly
banished from my waking thoughts, occurred in an incongruous and
half-seen form, to my dreams. During my sleep, the image of Waldegrave
flitted before me. Methought the sentiment that impelled him to visit me
was not affection or complacency, but inquietude and anger. Some service
or duty remained to be performed by me, which I had culpably neglected:
to inspirit my zeal, to awaken my remembrance, and incite me to the
performance of this duty, did this glimmering messenger, this
half-indignant apparition, come.

I commonly awake soon enough to mark the youngest dawn of the morning.
Now, in consequence perhaps of my perturbed sleep, I opened my eyes
before the stars had lost any of their lustre. This circumstance
produced some surprise, until the images that lately hovered in my fancy
were recalled, and furnished somewhat like a solution of the problem.