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into that fatal garret; and that, in
the morning, the entry doors were all found shut and locked as firm
as ever.

Legree could not help overhearing this whispering; and it was
all the more exciting to him, from the pains that were taken
to conceal it from him. He drank more brandy than usual; held up
his head briskly, and swore louder than ever in the daytime; but
he had bad dreams, and the visions of his head on his bed were
anything but agreeable. The night after Tom's body had been carried
away, he rode to the next town for a carouse, and had a high one.
Got home late and tired; locked his door, took out the key, and
went to bed.

After all, let a man take what pains he may to hush it down,
a human soul is an awful ghostly, unquiet possession, for a
bad man to have. Who knows the metes and bounds of it? Who knows
all its awful perhapses,--those shudderings and tremblings, which
it can no more live down than it can outlive its own eternity!
What a fool is he who locks his door to keep out spirits, who has
in his own bosom a spirit he dares not meet alone,--whose voice,
smothered far down, and piled over with mountains of earthliness,
is yet like the forewarni