For my own part， I soon found a dislike to it arising withinme. This was just the reverse of what I had anticipated；but—I know not how or why it was—its evident fondness formyself rather disgusted and annoyed. By slow degrees， thesefeelings of disgust and annoyance rose into the bitterness ofhatred. I avoided the creature； a certain sense of shame， andthe remembrance of my former deed of cruelty， preventing mefrom physically abusing it. I did not， for some weeks， strike， orotherwise violently ill use it； but gradually—very gradually—Icame to look upon it with unutterable loathing， and to fleesilently from its odious presence， as from the breath of apestilence.
What added， no doubt， to my hatred of the beast， wasthe discovery， on the morning after I brought it home， that，like Pluto， it also had been deprived of one of its eyes. Thiscircumstance， however， only endeared it to my wife， who， as Ihave already said， possessed， in a high degree， that humanityof feeling which had once been my distinguishing trait， and thesource of many of my simplest and purest pleasures.
With my aversion to this cat， however， its partiality formyself seemed to increase. It followed my footsteps witha pertinacity which it would be difficult to make the readercomprehend. Whenever I sat， it would crouch beneath mychair， or spring upon my knees， covering me with its loathsomecaresses. If I arose to walk it would get between my feet andthus nearly throw me down， or， fastening its long and sharpclaws in my dress， clamber， in this manner， to my breast. Atsuch times， although I longed to destroy it with a blow， I wasyet withheld from so doing， partly by a memory of my formercrime， but chiefly—let me confess it at once—by absolutedread of the beast.
This dread was not exactly a dread of physical evil—and yetI should be at a loss how otherwise to define it. I am almostashamed to own—yes， even in this felon’s cell， I am almostashamed to own—that the terror and horror with which theanimal inspired me， had been heightened by one of the merestchimaeras it would be possible to conceive. My wife had calledmy attention， more than once， to the character of the markof white hair， of which I have spoken， and which constitutedthe sole visible difference between the strange beast and theone I had destroyed. The reader will remember that this mark，although large， had been originally very indefinite； but， byslow degrees—degrees nearly imperceptible， and which for along time my Reason struggled to reject as fanciful—it had， atlength， assumed a rigorous distinctness of outline. It was nowthe representation of an object that I shudder to name—andfor this， above all， I loathed， and dreaded， and would haverid myself of the monster had I dared—it was now， I say， theimage of a hideous—of a ghastly thing—of the GALLOWS！—oh， mournful and terrible engine of Horror and of Crime—ofAgony and of Death！
And now was I indeed wretched beyond the wretchednessof mere Humanity. And a brute beast—whose fellow I hadcontemptuously destroyed—a brute beast to work out forme—for me a man， fashioned in the image of the High God—so much of insufferable wo！ Alas！ neither by day nor by nightknew I the blessing of Rest any more！ During the former thecreature left me no moment alone； and， in the latter， I started，hourly， from dreams of unutterable fear， to find the hot breathof the thing upon my face， and its vast weight—an incarnateNight-Mare that I had no power to shake off—incumbenteternally upon my heart！
Beneath the pressure of torments such as these， the feebleremnant of the good within me succumbed. Evil thoughtsbecame my sole intimates—the darkest and most evil ofthoughts. The moodiness of my usual temper increased tohatred of all things and of all mankind； while， from the sudden，frequent， and ungovernable outbursts of a fury to which I nowblindly abandoned myself， my uncomplaining wife， alas！ wasthe most usual and the most patient of sufferers.
One day she accompanied me， upon some household errand，into the cellar of the old building which our poverty compelledus to inhabit. The cat followed me down the steep stairs， and，nearly throwing me headlong， exasperated me to madness.
Uplifting an axe， and forgetting， in my wrath， the childishdread which had hitherto stayed my hand， I aimed a blow atthe animal which， of course， would have proved instantly fatalhad it descended as I wished. But this blow was arrested bythe hand of my wife. Goaded， by the interference， into a ragemore than demoniacal， I withdrew my arm from her graspand buried the axe in her brain. She fell dead upon the spot，without a groan.