The Final Recollections of Charles Dickens

The Final Recollections of Charles Dickens by Thomas Hauser Page B

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your neck. The boards will spring open, and you will fall as dead weight. There will be a sudden jerk, a convulsion of the limbs, and you will hang there, swinging lifeless before the cheering mob.”
    â€œA curse upon you,” Wingate shrieked.
    â€œThe curse may pass your lips, but it is empty breath.You have no greater power to call a curse down upon me than you have to make a drop of rain fall from the sky. The rope for your necklace is being woven as we speak. It would be my pleasure to place it round your neck, but that privilege shall fall to other hands.”
    Wingate looked now as though the ground beneath him was sliding away.
    â€œI will be here again soon,” the inspector pledged. “It is a beautiful case, and I expect to supply what little is left to complete it within a few days. You shall be taken into custody on a warrant shortly.” Ellsworth rose from his chair. “Our meeting is over, sir.”
    â€œLondon is large,” Wingate said weakly. “We can easily find different ways. Please, show me which way is yours. I will take another and make it worth your while.”
    â€œI assure you, Mr. Wingate, whatever road you take, our paths will cross again. You have lost the game, and you will pay for your sins.”
    I followed Ellsworth’s lead to the door. Then, from behind, I heard Wingate’s voice, possessed of more firmness than a moment before.
    â€œMr. Dickens. I have tried to befriend you. But our lives lie in very different directions now.”
    I did not answer. I knew that Ellsworth preferred it that way.
    â€œI had a dream about you last night, Mr. Dickens. It was quite unpleasant. I thrust an ice pick into your heart.”
    The inspector turned to face him. “Rest assured, Mr. Wingate,” he said with calm in his voice, “others in positions of power know what Mr. Dickens and I know.If harm were to befall either one of us, it would do you no good. It would simply add to the ledger against you.”

    Ellsworth sat silent in the carriage as we rode away from Wingate’s home. He seemed to be pondering the day’s events, and I thought it unwise to distract him.
    Finally, he spoke.
    â€œIf Wingate could kill us with a wish, we would not live long.”
    I am certain that I looked unsettled by those words.
    â€œI am not unmindful of your safety,” the inspector added. “Do not leave your home tonight. Tomorrow morning, a constable will be assigned to accompany you whenever you are away from your quarters. He will be at your residence each day at the hour you specify and will escort you home when your work is done.”
    Ellsworth paused to gather his thoughts.
    â€œWingate was not penitent in the least this afternoon. There is no more contrition or remorse in him now than there was when the evil deeds were done. Every man and woman should have their rights and their punishment according to justice while they are still here on this earth. I hope that is achieved here.”
    â€œYou have witnesses now.”
    Ellsworth shook his head.
    â€œThere was a great amount of a bluff in what I said. We have little that would hold against him in a court of law. There is no proof of forgery and no witness to the murder of Owen Pearce. But Wingate does not knowthat. And he is desperate. Only a desperate man or a fool would talk the way he did today. And he is not a fool.”
    Then Ellsworth did something that I had never seen him do before. He smiled.
    â€œTruth is a sublime and grand thing,” he said. “Though like other sublime and grand things, such as a thunderstorm, one is not always glad to see it. I believe he is crumbling. Let us see if it leads him to error.”

CHAPTER 9

    My recollection turns a corner now to a day in my life like no other. If it had occurred yesterday, I could not remember the details more clearly. Every moment is firmly impressed upon my memory, as if it had been carved in stone and

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