My own little patrimony is hardly sufficient to make her independent of the world.The hope, if I could only live long enough, of increasing it to a certain sum, has impelled me to resist the disease by such palliative means as I could devise.The one effectual palliative in my case, is --opium.To that all-potent and all-merciful drug I am indebted for a respite of many years from my sentence of death.But even the virtues of opium have their limit.The progress of the disease has gradually forced me from the use of opium to the abuse of it.I am feeling the penalty at last.
My nervous system is shattered; my nights are nights of horror.The end is not far off now.Let it come -- I have not lived and worked in vain.
The little sum is nearly made up; and I have the means of completing it, if my last reserves of life fail me sooner than I expect.I hardly know how I have wandered into telling you this.I don't think I am mean enough to appeal to your pity.Perhaps, I fancy you may be all the readier to believe me, if you know that what I have said to you, I have said with the certain knowledge in me that I am a dying man.There is no disguising, Mr.Blake, that you interest me.I have attempted to make my poor friend's loss of memory the means of bettering my acquaintance with you.I have speculated on the chance of your feeling a passing curiosity about what he wanted to say, and of my being able to satisfy it.Is there no excuse for my intruding myself on you? Perhaps there is some excuse.A man who has lived as I have lived has his bitter moments when he ponders over human destiny.You have youth, health, riches, a place in the world, a prospect before you.You, and such as you, show me the sunny side of human life, and reconcile me with the world that I am leaving, before I go.However this talk between us may end, I shall not forget that you have done me a kindness in doing that.It rests with you, sir, to say what you proposed saying, or to wish me good morning.'
I had but one answer to make to that appeal.Without a moment's hesitation I told him the truth, as unreservedly as I have told it in these pages.
He started to his feet, and looked at me with breathless eagerness as I approached the leading incident of my story.
`It is certain that I went into the room,' I said; `it is certain that I took the Diamond.I can only meet those two plain facts by declaring that, do what I might, I did it without my own knowledge --'
Ezra Jennings caught me excitedly by the arm.
`Stop!' he said.`You have suggested more to me than you suppose.Have you ever been accustomed to the use of opium?'
`I never tasted it in my life.'
`Were your nerves out of order, at this time last year? Were you unusually restless and irritable?'
`Yes.'
`Did you sleep badly?'
`Wretchedly.Many nights I never slept at all.'
`Was the birthday night an exception? Try and remember.Did you sleep well on that one occasion?'
`I do remember! I slept soundly.'
He dropped my arm as suddenly as he had taken it -- and looked at me with the air of a man whose mind was relieved of the last doubt that rested on it.
`This is a marked day in your life, and in mine,' he said, gravely.
`I am absolutely certain, Mr.Blake, of one thing -- I have got what Mr.
Candy wanted to say to you this morning, in the notes that I took at my patient's bedside.Wait! that is not all.I am firmly persuaded that Ican prove you to have been unconscious of what you were about, when you entered the room and took the Diamond.Give me time to think, and time to question you.I believe the vindication of your innocence is in my hands!'
`Explain yourself, for God's sake! What do you mean?'
In the excitement of our colloquy, we had walked on a few steps, beyond the clump of dwarftrees which had hitherto screened us from view.Before Ezra Jennings could answer me, he was hailed from the high road by a man, in great agitation, who had been evidently on the look-out for him.
`I am coming,' he called back; `I am coming as fast as I can!' He turned to me.`There is an urgent case waiting for me at the village yonder; Iought to have been there half an hour since -- I must attend to it at once.
Give me two hours from this time and call at Mr.Candy's again -- and Iwill engage to be ready for you.'
`How am I to wait!' I exclaimed, impatiently.`Can't you quiet my mind by a word of explanation before we part?'
`This is far too serious a matter to be explained in a hurry, Mr.Blake.
I am not wilfully trying your patience -- I should only be adding to your suspense, if I attempted to relieve it as things are now.At Frizinghall, sir, in two hours' time!'
The man on the high road hailed him again.He hurried away, and left me.
