I was determined not to be balked in my purpose, for this was an opportunity which might not occur again for years to obtain some clew to my own affairs. In fact, I had resolutely resolved to SEEK AND FIND my mother, who was still living; and I wanted information.
The library of my uncle was contained in an addition to the house which had been erected after the completion of the original structure. It was on the end of the house, and could be reached only through his chamber. The roof was flat, and covered with tin plates. On the side fronting the lake there was a bay window. The middle sash was generally open at the top in warm weather, as I had no doubt it was at the present time.
I stole softly up stairs to my chamber, from which one of the windows opened upon the flat roof over the library. I raised this window, and crawled like a cat over to the bay window, the top of which was considerably lower than the roof. Lying down on the projection, I placed my head near the top of the window. I was rejoiced to find that I could hear the voices of the occupants of the room below me. More than this, a lucky thought, as I regarded it, occurred to me as I lay there. The window was pulled down at the top, and I found that I could get into the room almost as easily as I could stay out. I deemed this an important discovery, for I fully intended, at the first convenient opportunity, to explore the library. Though the thought came to me, I did not follow out its leading at this time.
"How can I get rid of him?" demanded uncle Amos, as I placed my head near the open sash; and it was evident that the parties had made some progress in the discussion while I was securing my position.
"Send him off. I can find a place for him in a store in New Orleans, where the yellow fever will make an end of him," replied Tom.
"Thomas, I will not harm him. I don't want to kill him," added uncle Amos.
"Of course you don't want to kill him—let the fever do that. Let him go away, and lose the run of you. Something must be done at once. He is a smart boy, they say, and if he should happen to get an idea, he would blow you and me so high that we never should come down."
That was an idea, and I happened to get it.
"My son, I have stained my soul with crime for your sake," added my uncle, bitterly. "We have wronged this boy enough. I will not have him injured."
"I don't wish to injure him, only to get him out of the way, so that he will lose the run of you," replied Tom, petulantly. "He don't know anything about me."