CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE ALARM.
He arose, held up on either hand that day as if fighting against Amalek;--despair buttressed him on one side, and secresy shored him on the other: behind that wall of stone his heart had strength to beat.
He arose; and listened at the key-hole anxiously: all silent, quiet, quiet still; the whole house asleep: nothing found out yet.

And he bit his nails to the quick, that they bled again: but he never felt the pain.
Hush!--yes, somebody's about: it is Jonathan's step; and hark, he is humming merrily, "Hail, smiling morn, that opes the gates of day ?" Wo, wo--what a dismal gulph between Jonathan and me! And he beat his breast miserably.

But, Jonathan cannot find it out--he never goes to Mrs.
Quarles's room.

Oh! this suspense is horrible: haste, haste, some kind soul, to make the dread discovery! And he tore his hair away by handfulls.
"Hark!--somebody else--unlatching shutters; it will be Sarah--ha! she is tapping at the housekeeper's room--yes, yes, and she will make it known, O terrible joy!--A scream! it is Sarah's voice--she has seen her dead, dead, dead;--but is she indeed dead ?" The miscreant quivered with new fears; she might still mutter "Simon did it!" And now the house is thoroughly astir; running about in all directions; and shouting for help; and many knocking loudly at the murderer's own door--"Mr.Jennings! Mr.Jennings!--quick--get up--come down--quick, quick--your aunt's found dead in her bed!" What a relief to the trembling wretch!--she _was_ dead.

He could have blessed the voice that told him his dread secret was so safe.