hen
she, wearied by his shameless importunity, at last withdrew her
support, he determined upon a monstrous act of vengeance. With a noble
affectation of penitence he visited his home; promised reform at supper;
and said good-night in the broken accent of reconciliation. No sooner
was the house sunk in slumber than he crawled stealthily upstairs in
order to forestall by theft a promised generosity. He opened the door of
the bed-chamber in a hushed silence; but the wrenching of the cofferlid
awoke the sleeper, and Gilderoy, having cut his mother's throat with
an infamous levity, seized whatever money and jewels were in the house,
cruelly maltreated his sister, and laughingly burnt the house to the
ground, that the possibility of evidence might be destroyed.

Henceforth his method of plunder was assured. It was part of his
philosophy to prevent detection by murder, and the flames from the
burning walls added a pleasure to his lustful eye. His march across
Scotland was marked by slaughtered families and ruined houses. Plunder
was the first cause of his exploits, but there is no doubt that death
and arson were a solace to his fierce spirit; and for a while this
giant of cruelty knew neither check nor hindrance. Presently it became
a superstition with him that death was the inevitable accompaniment
of robbery, and, as he was incapable of remorse, he grew callous, and
neglected the simplest precautions. At Dunkeld he razed a rifled house
to the ground, and with the utmost effrontery repeated the performance
at Aberdeen. But at last he had been tracked by a company of soldiers,
who, that justice might not be cheated of her prey, carried him to gaol,
where after the briefest trial he was condemned to death.

Gilderoy, however, was still master of himself. His immense strength not
only burst his bonds, but broke prison, and this invincible Samson
was once more free in Aberdeen, inspiring that respectable city with a
legendary dread. The reward of one hundred pounds was offered in vain.
Had he shown himself on the road in broad daylight, none would have
dared to arrest him, and it was not until his plans were deliberately
laid, that he crossed the sea. The more violent period of his career
was at an end. Never again did he yield to his passion for burning
and sudden death; and, if the world found him unconquerable, his
self-control is proved by the fact that in the heyday of his strength
he turned from his unredeemed brutality t