. Besides, you had your
religious training to help you."

"I had the temptation, all the same. It happened in this way: One night
I was lying awake, as I usually did, until I heard Mr. Seabrook come in
and go to his room. He came in rather later than usual, and I listened
until all was still in the house, that I might sleep the more safely and
soundly afterwards. I had, however, become so nervously wakeful by this
time that the much needed and coveted sleep refused to visit me, and I
laid tossing feverishly upon my bed when I became aware that there was a
smell of fire in the air. Rapidly dressing, I took Benton in my arms and
hastened down stairs, to have him where I could save him, should the
house be in danger. There was a still stronger odor of burning cloth and
wood in the lower rooms, but very little smoke to be detected. After
looking into the kitchen and finding all right there, I feared the fire
might be in the other part of the house, and was about to give the
alarm, when it occurred to me that the trouble might be in Mr.
Seabrook's room.

"Leaving Benton asleep on the dining-room table, I ran to his door and
knocked. No answer came; but I could smell the smoke within. Pushing
open the door I discovered him lying in a perfectly unconscious state,
and half undressed, on the bed, sleeping off the effects of a wine
supper. A candle which he had lighted, and left burning, had consumed
itself down to the socket, and by some chance had ignited a few loose
papers on the table beside the bed; the fire had communicated to the
bedding on one side, and to some of his wearing apparel on the other.
All was just ready to burst into a blaze with the admission of fresh
air, which I had the presence of mind to prevent, by closing the door
behind me.

"There I was, in the presence of my enemy, and he in the clutches of
death. I shudder when I think of the feelings of that moment! An evil
spirit plainly said to me, 'Now you shall have rest. Let him alone; he
is dying by his own hand, not yours--why do you interfere with the
decree of fate?' An exulting yet consciously guilty joy agitated my
heart, which was beating violently. 'Let him die!' I said to myself,
'let him die!'

"Very rapidly such thoughts whirl through the brain under great
excitement. The instant that I hesitated seemed an age of cool
deliberation to me. Then the wickedness of my self-gratulation rushed
into my mind, making me feel like a murderer. 'O, God,' I