‘When I recovered my senses, it, was to experience severer woe. A confused idea of what had passed presented itself to my mind. I lay for some time silent, as if to recollect the events that had brought me extended on a bed of sickness: by degrees the whole rushed on my terrified brain. I hastily started up, and inquired for my father. But was only answered by the attendant with an exclamation of surprise and pleasure, at hearing me speak rationally, and conjured/ by her to be composed, as my life depended on it. ‘If you wish,’ cried I, ‘to preserve my senses, tell me of my father. Oh! tell me in pity, what has happened since I have been in this state!’

‘Alarmed by the agony my features expressed, and fearing I should relapse into a state of delirium; the terrified nurse told me my father was ill, and confined to his bed; but if I would try to compose myself, I should soon be well enough to see him.

‘Oh!’ cried I, shuddering, (and interpreting a peculiar look of horror I imagined was imprinted on her countenance into a reproach upon me,) ‘my father has been wounded, perhaps murdered! Wretch that I am, I have killed him! I have destroyed the most indulgent, best of parents!’

‘It was in vain for the nurse to assure me I was not so guilty; that the illness of my father was the visitation of God;/ I could not believe her, and was resolved to know the extent of my misery: – for that purpose, I watched an opportunity, when she quitted the room for a short time, to steal to my father's chamber. What a sight presented itself to my agonised view! stretched on the bed, lay the body of my only parent, murdered by me.