And as he
lay, he thrust his hand into the guilty pocket. Good heavens! there was
something still there. He pulled it out; it was a sovereign! Then he WAS
a thief, even actually. Oh, everything was against him; and, starting to
his feet, he flung the accursed gold over the rocks far into the sea.
When he got home he felt so inconceivably wretched that, unable to work,
he begged leave to go to bed at once. It was long before he fell asleep;
but when he did, the sleep was more terrible than the haunted
wakefulness. For he had no rest from tormenting and horrid dreams.
Brigson and Billy, their bodies grown to gigantic proportions, and their
faces fierce with demoniacal wickedness, seemed to be standing over him,
and demanding five pounds on pain of death. Flights of pigeons darkening
the air, settled on him, and flapped about him. He fled from them madly
through the dark midnight, but many steps pursued him. He saw Mr. Rose,
and running up, seized him by the hand, and implored protection. But in
his dream Mr.
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