This was not the only or chief inspirer of my fears.
For him, not for myself, was my soul tormented. I might die, and
no crime, surpassing the reach of mercy, would pursue me to the
presence of my Judge; but my assassin would survive to contemplate
his deed, and that assassin was Wieland!
Wings to bear me beyond his reach I had not. I could not vanish
with a thought. The door was open, but my murderer was interposed
between that and me. Of self-defense I was incapable. The frenzy
that lately prompted me to blood was gone: my state was desperate;
my rescue was impossible.
The weight of these accumulated thoughts could not be borne. My
sight became confused; my limbs were seized with convulsion; I
spoke, but my words were half formed:--
"Spare me, my brother! Look down, righteous Judge! snatch me from
this fate! take away this fury from him, or turn it elsewhere! "
Such was the agony of my thoughts that I noticed not steps entering
my apartment. Supplicating eyes were cast upward; but when my
prayer was breathed I once more wildly gazed at the door. A form
met my sight; I shuddered as if the God whom I invoked were
present.
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