It was night. I walked madly and swiftly through the streets, and though the people stared, I recked not of their notice, but kept my way. What would I have given for power to call back but one little year? One moment only, did I think of drowning my horrible agony in drink; but I cursed the very reflection, as it was formed in my soul. Now, I thought upon Mary’s tenderness to me – upon her constant care, and regard, and love; and now the idea of the repayment I had made her, filled my bosom.

            As I wended thus heedlessly on with long strides, I came off against the entrance of a tavern which, in times past, I had frequently visited. In the door, talking with a party of companions, stood a form which, in the imperfect light, I thought I recognized. Another moment, he turned, and his face was shone upon by the gas-lamp; I was right in my conjecture – it was Colby. With a sudden revulsion of feeling, I remembered that it was he who had tempted me, and through whose means all my follies and crimes had been committed. I sprang madly toward the place where he stood.

            “Devil!” cried I furiously, seizing him by the throat, “you have brought death to one for whom I would willingly have suffered torments forever! It is fitting that you pay the penalty with your own base life. Die! Villain, even on the spot where you started me upon my ruin!”

 – (Franklin Evans, 51 )