her
accouchement was more favourable than could have been expected. But the
terror of that fearful moment had left its stamp upon _me_. The evil
star of my destiny had got in the ascendant and shot down its sparks
upon me, enkindling in me a most singular but at the same time a most
pernicious passion. Even in the earliest days of my childhood there was
nothing I thought so much of as I did of flashing diamonds and
ornaments of gold. It was regarded as an ordinary childish inclination.
But the contrary was soon made manifest, for when a boy I stole all the
gold and jewellery I could anywhere lay my hands on. Like the most
experienced goldsmith I could distinguish by instinct false jewellery
from real. The latter alone proved an attraction to me; objects made of
imitated gold as well as gold coins I heeded not in the least. My
inborn propensity had, however, to give way to the excessively cruel
thrashings which I received at my father's hand.

"'I adopted the trade of a goldsmith, merely that I might be able to
handle gold and precious stones. I worked with passionate enthusiasm
and soon became the first master in the craft. But now began a period
in which my innate propensity, so long repressed, burst forth with
vehemence and grew most rapidly, imbibing nourishment from everything
about it. So soon as I had completed a piece of jewellery, and had
delivered it up to the customer, I fell into a state of unrest, of
desperate disquiet, which robbed me of sleep and health and courage for
my daily life. Day and night the person for whom I had done the work
stood before my eyes like a spectre, adorned with my jewellery, whilst
a voice whispered in my ears, "Yes, it's yours; yes it's yours. Go and
take it. What does a dead man want diamonds for?" Then I began to
practise thievish arts. As I had access to the houses of the great, I
speedily turned every opportunity to good account: no lock could baffle
my skill; and I soon had the object which I had made in my hands again.
But after a time even that did not banish my unrest. That unearthly
voice still continued to make itself heard in my ears, mocking me to
scorn, and crying, "Ho! ho! a dead man is wearing your jewellery." By
some inexplicable means, which I do not understand, I began to conceive
an unspeakable hatred of those for whom I made my ornaments. Ay, deep
down in my heart there began to stir a murderous feeling against them,
at which I myself trembled with apprehensio