"I continued for the remainder of the day in my hovel in a state
of utter and stupid despair. My protectors had departed, and had
broken the only link that held me to the world. For the first
time the feelings of revenge and hatred filled my bosom, and I
did not strive to control them; but, allowing myself to be borne
away by the stream, I bent my mind towards injury and death.
When I thought of my friends, of the mild voice of De Lacey, the
gentle eyes of Agatha, and the exquisite beauty of the Arabian,
these thoughts vanished, and a gush of tears somewhat soothed
me. But again, when I reflected that they had spurned and
deserted me, anger returned, a rage of anger; and, unable to
injure any thing human, I turned my fury towards inanimate
objects. As night advanced, I placed a variety of combustibles
around the cottage; and, after having destroyed every vestige of
cultivation in the garden, I waited with forced impatience until
the moon had sunk to commence my operations.
"As the night advanced, a fierce wind arose from the woods, and
quickly dispersed the clouds that had loitered in the heavens:
the blast tore along like a mighty avalanche, and produced a
kind of insanity in my spirits, that burst all bounds of reason
and reflection. I lighted the dry branch of a tree, and danced
with fury around the devoted cottage, my eyes still fixed on the
western horizon, the edge of which the moon nearly touched. A
part of its orb was at length hid, and I waved my brand; it
sunk, and, with a loud scream, I fired the straw, and heath, and
bushes, which I had collected. The wind fanned the fire, and the
cottage was quickly enveloped by the flames, which clung to it,
and licked it with their forked and destroying tongues.
"As soon as I was convinced that no assistance could save any
part of the habitation, I quitted the scene, and sought for
refuge in the woods.