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Ainsworth, William Harrison, 1805-1882

"Old Saint Paul's A Tale of the Plague and the Fire"

"I have done wrong in
drinking the water, and you ought not to have given it me."
"You asked for it," she replied. "You should have had wine but for your
obstinacy. But I will save you yet, if you will tell me where to find
the treasure."
"Look for it in my grave," he returned, with a hideous grin.
Soon after this, he fell into a sort of stupor. His wife could now have
easily put a period to his existence, but she still hoped to wrest the
secret from him. She was assured, moreover, that his recovery was
hopeless. At the expiration of about two hours, he was aroused by the
excruciating anguish of his sore. He had again become delirious, and
raved as before about coffins, corpses, graves, and other loathsome
matters. Seeing, from his altered looks and the livid and gangrenous
appearance which the tumour had assumed, that his end was not far off,
Judith resolved not to lose a moment, but to try the effect of a sudden
surprise. Accordingly, she bent down her head, and shouted in his ear,
"What has become of your treasure, Matthew?"
The plan succeeded to a miracle. The dying man instantly raised himself.
"My treasure!" he echoed with a yell that made the vault ring again.
"Well thought on! I have not secured it. They are carrying it off. I
must prevent them." And throwing off the coverings, he sprang out of
bed.
"I shall have it now," thought his wife.


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