It
was thus that in periods of calm I had determined to act. No
cowardice had been held by me in greater abhorrence than that which
prompted an injured female to destroy, not her injurer ere the
injury was perpetrated, but herself when it was without remedy.
Yet now this penknife appeared to me of no other use than to baffle
my assailant and prevent the crime by destroying myself. To
deliberate at such a time was impossible; but, among the tumultuous
suggestions of the moment, I do not recollect that it once occurred
to me to use it as an instrument of direct defense.
The steps had now reached the second floor. Every footfall
accelerated the completion without augmenting the certainty of
evil. The consciousness that the door was fast, now that nothing
but that was interposed between me and danger, was a source of some
consolation. I cast my eye toward the window. This, likewise, was
a new suggestion. If the door should give way, it was my sudden
resolution to throw myself from the window. Its height from the
ground, which was covered beneath by a brick pavement, would insure
my destruction; but I thought not of that.
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