I then went out of the cabin and took my usual seat, and began to
reflect upon what I had heard. He had talked about diamonds; now I knew
what diamonds were, so far as they were of great value, for I had read
of them in the Bible, and Jackson had explained the value of precious
stones to me, and had told me of diamonds of very great value indeed.
Then he said that they were Henniker's diamonds--he must have meant my
father, that was positive. And that no one could prove they were
his--this implied that Jackson had no right to them; indeed how could
he have? And then I recalled to mind his having a secret hiding place
under his bed, where I presumed the diamonds were deposited. I then
turned over in my mind what he had told me relative to the death of my
father, the captain, and my mother, how confused he was, and how glad
he was to get rid of the subject, and how unsatisfactory I thought his
account was at the time. After much cogitation, I made up my mind that
Jackson had not told me the truth, and that there was a mystery yet to
be explained; but how was I to get at it? There was but one way. The
liquor made him talk. I would supply him with liquor, and by degrees I
would get the truth out of him. At the same time I would not allow him
to suppose that he had said anything to commit himself, or that I had
any suspicions.
How naturally do we fall into treachery and deceit, from the evil in
our own hearts, without any assistance or example from the world. How
could I have learnt deceit? Isolated as I had been, must it not have
been innate?
I returned to the cabin, and woke Jackson without much difficulty,
since he had not drunk so much as on the previous night.
"How are you this morning?" said I.
"Not very well; I have had some bad dreams."
"Well you sang me some beautiful songs," replied I.
"Yes, I recollect," said he; "but I fell asleep at last."
"Yes, you refused to sing any more, and went off in a loud snore."
Jackson got out of his bed-place, and I gave him his meal. We talked
during the whole day about singing, and I hummed the air which had
pleased me most.
"You have got the air pretty correct," said he; "you must have an ear
for music. Have you ever tried to sing?"
"No, never; you know I have not."
"You might have tried when I was not with you. Try now. I will sing a
tune, and then do you repeat it after me."
He did so, and I repeated it.
"Very good," said he. "Let's try the compass of your voice."
He ran up the gamut, and I followed him.
"I think you can go higher than I can," said he, "however you go quite
high enough, so now I'll give you a singing lesson."
Thus were we occupied at intervals during the whole day, for Jackson
would not allow me to try my voice too much at first. As the evening
fell, he again asked me to fetch some liquor, and as I had three quart
wine bottles, as I before mentioned, which I had found in the chest, I
took them down to fill, as it would save me many trips, and be more
convenient in every respect.
I brought them up full, and Jackson stopped them up with some of the
rags which I had torn to bind round his wrist, and put them all three
in his bed-place.
"That will be a much better arrangement," said he, "as now I can pour
out the liquor into the pannikin as I want it; besides, I mean to take
a little water with it in future. It's not quite so good with water,
but it lasts longer, and one don't go to sleep so soon. Well, I little
thought that I should have such a comfort sent me after all my
sufferings. I don't so much care now about staying here. Go and fetch
some water in the pannikin."
That night was a repetition of the first. Jackson sang till he was
intoxicated, and then fell fast asleep, not talking or saying a word,
and I was disappointed, for I remained awake to catch anything he might
say. It would be tedious to repeat what took place for about a
month;--suffice it to say it was very rarely, during that time, that
Jackson said anything in his sleep, or drunken state, and what he did
say I could make nothing of. He continued, in the daytime, to give me
lessons in singing, and I could now sing several songs very correctly.
At night, he returned to his usual habit, and was more or less
intoxicated before the night was over. I perceived, however, that this
excess had a great effect upon his constitution, and that he had become
very pale and haggard. Impatient as I felt to find out the truth, I
concealed my feelings towards him (which had certainly very much
changed again since the discovery I had made and the suspicions I had
formed) and I remained on the best of terms with him, resolving to wait
patiently. He had spoken once, and therefore I argued that he would
speak again, nor was I wrong in my calculations.
One night, after he had finished his usual allowance of liquor, and had
composed himself for sleep, I observed that he was unusually restless,
changing his position in his bed-place every few minutes, and, at last,
he muttered, "Captain James. Well, what of Captain James, eh?"
A thought struck me that he might reply to a question.
"How did he die?" said I, in a low clear voice.
"Die?" replied Jackson, "he fell down the cliff. Yes, he did. You can't
say I killed him. No--never put my finger on him."
After that, he was silent for some time, and then he recommenced.
"She always said that I destroyed them both, but I did not--only
one--yes, one, I grant--but I hated him--no, not for his diamonds--no,
no--if you said his wife indeed--love and hate."
"Then you killed him for love of his wife, and hate of himself?"
"Yes, I did. Who are you that have guessed that? Who are you? I'll have
your life."
As he said this, he started up in his bed-place, awakened by his dream,
and probably by my voice, which he had replied to.
"Who spoke?" said he. "Frank Henniker, did you speak?"
I made no reply, but pretended to be sound asleep, as he still sat up,
as if watching me. I feigned a snore.
"It could not have been him," muttered Jackson, "he's quite fast.
Mercy, what a dream!"
He then sank down in his bed-place, and I heard the gurgling noise
which told me that he had put the bottle of liquor to his mouth, and
was drinking out of it. From the time that the gurgling lasted, he must
have taken a great deal. At last, all was quiet again.
"So I have discovered it at last," said I, as my blood boiled at what I
had heard. "He did murder my father. Shall I kill him while he sleeps?"
was the first thought that came into my troubled mind. "No, I won't do
that. What then, shall I tax him with it when he is awake, and then
kill him?" but I thought, that, as he was blind, and unable to defend
himself, it would be cowardly, and I could not do that. What then was I
to do? and as I cooled down, I thought of the words of the Bible, that
we were to return good for evil; for Jackson, of whom, when I read it,
I asked why we were told to do so, had explained it to me, and
afterwards when I came to the part which said, "Vengeance is mine,
saith the Lord," he had told me that there was punishment for the
wicked hereafter, and that was the reason why we were not to obey the
Jewish law of "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," which I had
referred to. This portion of the Bible he had well explained, and
certain it is that it prevented my raising my hand against him that
night. Still, I remained in a state of great excitement; I felt that it
would be impossible for me to be any longer on good terms with him, and
I revolved the question in my mind, till at last, worn out by
excitement, I fell fast asleep.
A short time before daylight, I started up at what I thought was a
faint cry, but I listened, and hearing nothing more, I again fell
asleep, and it was broad daylight when I arose; my first thoughts were
naturally of Jackson, and I looked at where he lay, but he was no
longer there--his bed-place was empty. I was astonished, and after a
moment's thought, I recollected the cry I had heard in the night, and I
ran out of the cabin and looked around me, but I could see nothing of
him. I then went to the edge of the flat rock upon which the cabin was
built and looked over it; it was about thirty feet from this rock to
the one below, and nearly perpendicular. I thought that he must have
gone out in the night, when intoxicated with liquor, and have fallen
down the precipice; but I did not see him as I peered over. "He must
have gone for water," thought I, and I ran to the corner of the rock,
where the precipice was much deeper, and looking over, I perceived him
lying down below without motion or apparent life. I had, then, judged
rightly. I sat down by the side of the pool of water quite overpowered;
last night I had been planning how I should destroy him, and now he lay
dead before me without my being guilty of the crime. "Vengeance is
mine, saith the Lord," were the words that first escaped my lips; and I
remained many minutes in deep thought. At last it occurred to me that
he might not yet be dead; I ran down the cliff, and, clambering over
the rocks, arrived breathless at the spot where Jackson lay. He groaned
heavily as I stood by him.
"Jackson," said I, kneeling down by him, "are you much hurt?" for all
my feelings of animosity had vanished when I perceived his unhappy
condition. His lips moved, but he did not utter any sound. At last he
said, in a low voice, "Water." I hastened back as fast as I could to
the cabin, got a pannikin half full of water, and poured a little rum
in it out of the bottle. This journey and my return to him occupied
some ten minutes. I put it to his lips, and he seemed to revive. He was
a dreadful object to look at. The blood from a cut on his head had
poured over his face and beard, which were clotted with gore. How to
remove him to the cabin I knew not. It would be hardly possible for me
to carry him over the broken rocks which I had climbed to arrive at
where he lay; and there was no other way but what was longer, and just
as difficult. By degrees he appeared to recover; I gave him more of the
contents of the pannikin, and at last he could speak, although with
great pain and difficulty. As he did so he put his hand to his side. He
was indeed a ghastly object, with his sightless eyeballs, his livid
lips, and his face and beard matted with blood.
"Do you think you could get to the cabin, if I helped you?" said I.
"I shall never get there--let me die where I am," said he.
"But the cut on your head is not very deep," replied I.
"No, I don't feel it;--but--my side--I bleed inwardly--I am--broken to
pieces," said he, pausing and gasping between each word.
I looked at his side, and perceived that it was already black and much
swollen. I offered him more drink, which he took eagerly, and I then
returned for a further supply. I filled two of the wine-bottles with
water and a small drop of spirits as before, and went back to where he
lay. I found him more recovered, and I had hopes that he might still do
well, and I told him so.
"No, no," replied he; "I have but a few hours to live--I feel that. Let
me die here, and die in peace."
He then sank into a sort of stupor, occasioned, I presume, by what I
had given him to drink, and remained quite quiet, and breathing
heavily. I sat by him waiting till he should rouse up again; for more
than an hour I was in a very confused state of mind, as may well be
imagined, after what had passed in the night.