Wing Of The Wind

A noise at the street door awaked me. I looked out of the window, and saw the officers of justice! I knew they had come to apprehend me for the murder, for I remembered that I had left my hat in the room where I had struggled with the merchant. My first impulse was to deliver myself up. My next was a desire of self-preservation! I felt I was not a murderer in my heart. I felt I was not so guilty as the world would make me! I shrunk from being arraigned as a criminal. I threw on my cloak and cap--I took gold from my desk, and then by a private way escaped from the house. I sought an obscure retreat.