'
'It's not my wish,' said the traveller. 'My humour is to be avoided.'
'Well,' said the locksmith bluntly, 'I think you'll have your humour.'
'I will, at any cost,' rejoined the traveller. 'In proof of it, lay this
to heart--that you were never in such peril of your life as you have
been within these few moments; when you are within five minutes of
breathing your last, you will not be nearer death than you have been
to-night!'
'Aye!' said the sturdy locksmith.
'Aye! and a violent death.'
'From whose hand?'
'From mine,' replied the traveller.
With that he put spurs to his horse, and rode away; at first plashing
heavily through the mire at a smart trot, but gradually increasing in
speed until the last sound of his horse's hoofs died away upon the wind;
when he was again hurrying on at the same furious gallop, which had been
his pace when the locksmith first encountered him.
Gabriel Varden remained standing in the road with the broken lantern in
his hand, listening in stupefied silence until no sound reached his ear
but the moaning of the wind, and the fast-falling rain; when he struck
himself one or two smart blows in the breast by way of rousing himself,
and broke into an exclamation of surprise.
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