At length, in reading
some French Memoirs, I found an account of a nearly fatal illness that
occurred to Madame Pilau, through the agency of a candle
accidentally poisoned. The idea struck my fancy at once. I knew my
victim's habit of reading in bed. I knew, too, that his apartment
was narrow and ill-ventilated. But I need not vex you with impertinent
details. I need not describe the easy artifices by which I
substituted, in his bed-room candle-stand, a wax-light of my own
making for the one which I there found. The next morning he was
discovered dead in his bed, and the Coroner's verdict was- "Death by
the visitation of God."
Having inherited his estate, all went well with me for years. The
idea of detection never once entered my brain. Of the remains of the
fatal taper I had myself carefully disposed. I had left no shadow of a
clew by which it would be possible to convict, or even to suspect me
of the crime. It is inconceivable how rich a sentiment of satisfaction
arose in my bosom as I reflected upon my absolute security.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13