CHAPTER XXV.
"_Cassius_. At such a time as this, it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear its comment.
--You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus!"
SHAKSPEARE.
Jaspar Dumont, on the morning after the abstraction of the papers by
Dalhousie, rose from his inebriated slumbers; but his rest was a
misnomer. The strong excitement, which a few weeks before had served to
keep his mind occupied, had now passed away. His villany was
accomplished; but it had not purchased the satisfaction he coveted--it
had cost too much sacrifice of soul. Brandy was his only solace; and
even this only conjured up demons of torture in his fevered imagination.
He was conscious that on the previous night he had drank too much. There
seemed to be a chasm in his recollection which all his efforts could not
fill. He might, while in a measure unconscious of his actions, have
betrayed some of his momentous secrets. The overseer, of whose presence
he had an indistinct remembrance, might have obtained some further clue
to the great mystery.
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