Thus were we occupied at intervals during the whole day, for Jackson would not allow me to try my voice too much at first. As the evening fell, he again asked me to fetch some liquor, and as I had three quart wine-bottles, as I before mentioned, which I had found in the chest, I took them down to fill, as it would save me many trips, and be more convenient in every respect.
I brought them up full, and Jackson stopped them up with some of the rags which I had torn to bind round his wrist, and put them all three in his bed-place.
“That will be a much better arrangement,” said he, “as now I can pour out the liquor into the pannikin as I want it; besides, I mean to take a little water with it in future. It’s not quite so good with water, but it lasts longer, and one don’t go to sleep so soon. Well, I little thought that I should have such a comfort sent me after all my sufferings. I don’t so much care now about staying here. Go and fetch some water in the pannikin.”
That night was a repetition of the first. Jackson sang till he was intoxicated, and then fell fast asleep, not talking or saying a word, and I was disappointed, for I remained awake to catch anything he might say. It would be tedious to repeat what took place for about a month;—suffice it to say, it was very rarely, during that time, that Jackson said anything in his sleep, or drunken state, and what he did say, I could make nothing of. He continued in the ‘daytime’ to give me lessons in singing, and I could now sing several songs very correctly. At night he returned to his usual habit, and was more or less intoxicated before the night was over. I perceived, however, that this excess had a great effect upon his constitution, and that he had become very pale and haggard. Impatient as I felt to find out the truth, I concealed my feelings towards him (which had certainly very much changed again since the discovery I had made and the suspicions I had formed), and I remained on the best of terms with him, resolving to wait patiently. He had spoken once, and therefore I argued that he would speak again; nor was I wrong in my calculations.
One night, after he had finished his usual allowance of liquor, and had composed himself for sleep, I observed that he was unusually restless, changing his position in his bed-place every few minutes, and, at last, he muttered, “Captain James. Well, what of Captain James, eh?”
A thought struck me that he might reply to a question.
“How did he die?” said I, in a low clear voice.
“Die?” replied Jackson, “he fell down the cliff. Yes, he did. You can’t say I killed him. No—never put my finger on him.”
After that he was silent for some time, and then he recommenced.
“She always said that I destroyed them both, but I did not—only one—yes, one, I grant—but I hated him—no, not for his diamonds—no, no—if you said his wife indeed—love and hate.”