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Edgar Huntley - or, Memoirs of a Sleep-Walker by Charles Brockden Brown
page 75 of 322 (23%)
attracted spectators. Lights were brought, and my antagonist discovered
bleeding at my feet. I explained, as briefly as I was able, the scene
which they witnessed. The prostrate person was raised by two men, and
carried into a public house nigh at hand.

I had not lost my presence of mind. I at once perceived the propriety of
administering assistance to the wounded man. I despatched, therefore,
one of the bystanders for a surgeon of considerable eminence, who lived
at a small distance, and to whom I was well known. The man was carried
into an inner apartment and laid upon the floor. It was not till now
that I had a suitable opportunity of ascertaining who it was with whom I
had been engaged. I now looked upon his face. The paleness of death
could not conceal his well-known features. It was Wiatte himself who was
breathing his last groans at my feet!

The surgeon, whom I had summoned, attended; but immediately perceived
the condition of his patient to be hopeless. In a quarter of an hour he
expired. During this interval, he was insensible to all around him. I
was known to the surgeon, the landlord, and some of the witnesses. The
case needed little explanation. The accident reflected no guilt upon me.
The landlord was charged with the care of the corpse till the morning,
and I was allowed to return home, without further impediment.




Chapter VIII.


Till now my mind had been swayed by the urgencies of this occasion.
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