"What matter," thought I,--"what matter if I live or die? Surely it
is in this state that people kill themselves."
I heard the chimes again, and a duck quacked in the pond; it was as
the laugh of a devil.
I turned from the window and stumbled over something; I lighted a
candle, and sat shivering on the shrouded bed.
"Two o'clock," thought I; "it is very cold. What shall I do? Shall I
sleep or die?"
And, as it were with a flash, there came to me the thought that
perhaps I was not the only one who sat at this moment coldly
contemplating death. An awful fear seized me that perhaps he,
Gabriel, might be driven to the haven of despairers.
I threw on my cloak, and, carrying my shoes, slowly and breathlessly
crept down the stairs to the back door, which had a light fastening.
And I ran across garden and park, across Graysmill Heath in the
night, strengthened by one fear against all others, nor did I stop
until I stood on the little hillock within sight of the Thatched
Cottage.
I saw at once that a light was burning in the window of Gabriel's
old room. I sprang on and halted once more on the grass-patch before
the Cottage door.
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