"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 [controul] <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 [Lacy,]
<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 [avelanche,]
<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.