He wished to make his way into the upper story without going up the stairs, as to do that it would be necessary to pass the hero and heroine. However, being well-acquainted with the building, and knowing how to climb, he easily made his way into the upper story from the rear. Then he stole noiselessly across the gloomy chamber, and felt his way to the window, where the “imposter,” Bélître Scélérat, hung in state.
It is a fundamental principle that villains, when about to perpetrate their dark crimes, should express their wicked thoughts in “hurried whispers.” This is very foolish on the part of the villains; but it is not easy to see how novels could be written if it were otherwise. Of course the romancers do not always overhear these “hurried whispers,” but the walls in the vicinity have ears, and probably the romancers get at them in that way.
“Now, then,” muttered Jim, “I’ll teach ’em better than to leave me out of their plots till they have to let me in. Charley and Steve intend to come along for this to-morrow, do they, and take it away, and float it burning down the river? I’ll bet they won’t! I’ll burn it all to smoke and ashes now, as it hangs on its pins, and serve ’em right!”
“Hum, this is Jim’s treachery!” sneers the reader. “I was led to expect something better; I am disappointed.”
Gentle reader, if you are a faithful peruser of novels, you must have a great fund of patience. Draw, then, on that fund, and more of Jim’s designs will presently be unfolded. Draw on your imagination, also; for his treachery was never fully made known.
Suiting the action to the word, Jim fumbled in his pocket and took out a bunch of matches, which he had put there for this very purpose. He knew he was doing wrong, and his hand trembled as he struck a light. He knew that his terrible disease might seize him at any moment; and so, fearing to stay longer where he was, he hastily applied the light to the spectral figure, and turned to steal away.
The inflammable material of Bélître Scélérat’s clothes instantly caught fire, and he himself was soon ablaze.
“Now to run and tell Marmaduke he is fooled,” Jim muttered.
In this way, poor simpleton, he thought to ease his conscience! But the “still small voice” will be deceived by no such flimsy excuses.