'I went to Chigwell, in search of the mob. I have been so hunted and
beset by this man, that I knew my only hope of safety lay in joining
them. They had gone on before; I followed them when it left off.'
'When what left off?'
'The Bell. They had quitted the place. I hoped that some of them might
be still lingering among the ruins, and was searching for them when
I heard--' he drew a long breath, and wiped his forehead with his
sleeve--'his voice.'
'Saying what?'
'No matter what. I don't know. I was then at the foot of the turret,
where I did the--'
'Ay,' said the blind man, nodding his head with perfect composure, 'I
understand.'
'I climbed the stair, or so much of it as was left; meaning to hide till
he had gone. But he heard me; and followed almost as soon as I set foot
upon the ashes.'
'You might have hidden in the wall, and thrown him down, or stabbed
him,' said the blind man.
'Might I? Between that man and me, was one who led him on--I saw it,
though he did not--and raised above his head a bloody hand. It was in
the room above that HE and I stood glaring at each other on the night of
the murder, and before he fell he raised his hand like that, and fixed
his eyes on me.
Pages:
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817