outrage he was meditating, murder itself did not stand out as a thought
accepted--no; what pleased his wild and turbid imagination was the idea
of humiliating by terror the man who had humbled him. To penetrate into
the home of this haughty scorner--to confront him in his own chamber at
the dead of night, man to man, force to force; to say to him, "None now
can deliver you from me--I come no more as a suppliant--I command you to
accept my terms"; to gloat over the fears which, the strong man felt
assured, would bow the rich man to beg for mercy at his feet;--this was
the picture which Jasper Losely conjured up; and even the spoil to be won
by violence smiled on him less than the grand position which the violence
itself would bestow. Are not nine murders out of ten fashioned thus from
conception into deed? "Oh that my enemy were but before me face to face
--none to part us!" says the vindictive dreamer. Well, and what then?
There, his imagination halts--there he drops the sable curtain; he goes
not on to say, "Why, then another murder will be added to the long
catalogue from Cain." He palters with his deadly wish, and mutters,
perhaps, at most, "Why, then--come what may!"

Losely continued to gaze on the pale walls gleaming through the wintry
boughs, as the moon rose high and higher. And now out broke the light
from Darrell's lofty casement, and Losely smiled fiercely, and muttered
--hark! the very words--"And then! come what may!"

Hoofs are now heard on the hard road, and Jasper is joined by his
accomplice.

"Well!" said Jasper.

"Mount!" returned Cutts; "I have much to say as we ride."