sight. He then turned, descended the bank, and sat upon a rock on the
edge of the water.

He reviewed the events of the day before the yesterday. He had
repeatedly endeavored to divert his mind from such thoughts; but, in
spite of his wishes, they would force themselves back. Finding all
resistance vain, he had, finally, abandoned himself to their control.

They passed confusedly through his mind. It was difficult to arrange
them in the order of their succession. He began to be uncertain
whether his visit to Holden was made before or after the drowning of
Sill. He tried to recollect the purpose of his visit to the Solitary,
but could fix upon nothing definite. He seemed to remember that he had
made a confession of some sort, and that Holden had charged him with
the murder of his brother; and, at the same time, commended him for
removing George from the evil to come. His thoughts then reverted to
the upsetting of the boat. He knew that Sill had saved his life; but
why, when in safety on the boat, had he left it? He had a notion of
some conversation between them, and strove, till his brain burned, to
remember it. Had he not urged the unfortunate man to swim ashore? Was
it not most probable he had done so? Was not that most consistent with
his usual treatment of others? Was not that the means adopted by the
stern angel of fate, to accomplish the decree?

Such was the nature of the thoughts of the unhappy Armstrong. Do
what he might, he could not exclude them. They would give place to no
others. They were at home. They had a right to rule and to torture.
They were a foretaste of a never-ending punishment. His will did not
consent; but, a mightier will commanded, and the weaker must obey.
The sport of an irresistible necessity--with no power of choice--the