“Well, well; it can’t be helped. Go on, Sir Francis.”
There was now a breathless silence, and Sir Francis Hartleton drew from his pocket the real confession of Jacob Gray. Learmont was in far too great a state of excitement to notice any difference in the aspect of the documents, and waving his arm, he cried,—
“Silence, friends, and welcome guests. We may find some secrets here worthy our attention.”
Sir Francis cast his eyes upon Learmont with a look of peculiar meaning as he said,—
“You will, I think, in this instance, squire, turn out a true prophet.”
He then opened the confession, and while every sound was hushed, and all eyes bent upon his, he, in a clear full voice, read,—
To Sir Francis Hartleton,
I, Jacob Gray, address the following confession and statement of facts to you because, from circumstances within your own remembrance, you will the more readily believe what is here recorded. May the bitterest curse of a dead man fall upon you and yours, if you do not take instant means to bring to an ignominious end those who I shall accuse of crimes which shall far exceed any that I have committed. By the time you receive this, I shall most probably be dead, or have left England for some distant land, where all search for me would be in vain. I leave, however, behind, whether dead or absent, this legacy of vengeance and so fulfil a promise I made to my own heart to destroy those who would long since have murdered me, but that I had fenced myself round with safeguards which they dared not despise.
In the year 1737, I was staying at Genoa, where I had been discharged from the service of an English family for matters that are of no consequence to my present narrative. For some months I could procure no employment, until an English gentleman, by name, Mark Learmont—
The guilty squire seemed absolutely stupified until the magistrate had got thus far, and then with a cry that struck terror to the hearts of all who heard it, he drew his sword, and with the wildness of despair, dashed through the throng of masks around him, shouting,—