What could he do?
which way should he turn?
how help himself, or get his gold again?
Unluckily--Oh, confusion, confusion!--his account-books were along with all his hoard, those tell-tale legers, wherein he had duly noted down, for his own private and triumphant glance, the curious difference between his lawful and unlawful gains; there, was every overcharge recorded, every matter of extortion systematically ranged, that he might take all the tenants in their turn; there, were filed the receipts of many honest men, whom the guardians and Sir John had long believed to be greatly in arrear; there, was recorded at length the catalogue of dues from tradesmen; there, the list of bribes for the custom of the Hall.

It would amply authorize Sir John in appropriating the whole store; and Jennings thought of this with terror.

Every thing was now obviously lost, lost! Oh, sickening little word, all lost! all he had ever lived for--all which had made him live the life he did--all which made him fear to die.

"Fear to die--ha! who said that?
I will not fear to die; yes, there is one escape left, I will hazard the blind leap; this misery shall have an end--this sleepless, haunted, cheated, hated wretch shall live no longer--ha! ha! ha! ha! I'll do it! I'll do it!" Then did that wretched man strive in vain to kill himself, for his hour was not yet come.

His first idea was laudanum--that only mean of any thing like rest to him for many weeks; and pouring out all he had, a little phial, nearly half a wine-glass full, he quickly drank it off: no use--no use; the agitation of his mind was too intense, and the habit of a continually increasing dose had made him proof against the poison; it would not even lull him, but seemed to stretch and rack his nerves, exciting him to deeds of bloody daring.