He
was dead, and I a murderer.
"You can understand pretty well what followed. I ran into the passage
and opened the door; then, finding no one seemed to have heard the
report of the pistol, my senses came back to me. I was not sorry for
what I had done. All I cared for was to avert suspicion from myself, and
to secure some advantage from his death.
"Stealing back into the room, I took all the money I could find, as well
as deeds and other securities. These last I destroyed next day, and in
doing so I felt a savage satisfaction.
"He would have served them the same as me,' I thought. All the rest you
know pretty well.
"From the hour I left him lying dead in the library every worldly plan
prospered with me. If I invested in land, it trebled in value. Did I
speculate in houses, they were sought after as investments. I grew rich,
respected, a man of standing. I had sold my soul to the devil, and he
paid me even higher wages than those for which I engaged--but there was
a balance.
"One after another, wife and children died; and while my heart was
breaking by reason of my home left desolate, there came to me the first
rumour of this place being haunted.
"I would not believe it--I did not--I fought against the truth as men
fight with despair.
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