LIFE OF WILSON. cxxxi 



arrival I found two persons in conversation under the piazza, 

 one of whom informed me that he was the landlord. He was 

 a dark mulatto, rather above the common size, inclining to cor- 

 pulency, with legs small in proportion to his size, and walked 

 lame. His countenance bespoke a soul capable of deeds of 

 darkness. I had not been three minutes in company when he 

 invited the other man, (who I understood was a traveller) and 

 myself, to walk back and see his cave, to which I immediately 

 consented. The entrance is in the perpendicular front of a 

 rock, behind the house; has a door with a lock and key to it, 

 and was crowded with pots of milk, placed near the running 

 stream. The roof and sides of solid rock, were wet and drop- 

 ping with water. Desiring to walk before with the 



lights, I followed with my hand on my pistol, reconnoitering 

 on every side, and listening to his description of its length and 

 extent. After examining this horrible vault for forty or fifty 

 yards, he declined going any farther, complaining of a rheu- 

 matism; and I now first perceived that the other person had 

 staid behind, and that we two were alone together. Confident 

 in my means of self-defence, whatever mischief the devil might 

 suggest to him, I fixed my eye steadily on his, and observed 

 to him, that he could not be ignorant of the reports circulated 

 about the country relative to this cave. " I suppose," said I, 

 i < you know what I mean?" " Yes, I understand you," return- 

 ed he, without appearing the least embarrassed, " that I killed 

 somebody and threw them into this cave I can tell you the 

 whole beginning of that damned lie," said he; and, without 

 moving from the spot, he detailed to me a long story, which 

 would fill half my letter, to little purpose, and which, with 

 other particulars, I shall reserve for your amusement when we 

 meet. I asked him why he did not get the cave examined by 

 three or four reputable neighbours, whose report might rescue 

 his character from the suspicion of having committed so horrid 

 a crime. He acknowledged it would be well enough to do so; 

 but did not seem to think it worth the trouble; and we return- 

 ed as we advanced, walking before with the lights, 



