I hear you
moving slowly about again, so I may leave you without anxiety. Good-by,
Solomon." Richard waited a moment, a frightful figure of hate and
triumph, peering down into the pit beneath, where all was now dark. "You
are too proud to speak to a convict, perhaps. Well, well, that is but
natural in so honest a man. I take my leave, then. You have no message,
I conclude, for home?"
An inarticulate cry, like that of a wild animal caught in a snare, was
the only reply.
"That is the worst of letting his candle go out," mused Richard, aloud;
"some rat has got hold of him already." Then, with a steady foot and
smiling face, which showed how all his previous fears had been assumed,
he retraced his steps, and mounted to the upper air. The sky was clearer
now; and, casting the torch, for which he had no further need, far into
the mine, and shouldering the ladder, he started for Gethin at good
speed. It was past two o'clock before he reached his inn at Turlock; but
before he retired to rest he sat down to the supper that had been
prepared for him, but without the appetite which he had anticipated.
CHAPTER XLIII.
THE SMOKING-ROOM OF THE GEORGE AND VULTURE.
Robert Balfour did not remain at Turlock, as he had originally intended.
Perhaps the vicinity to Wheal Danes was not so attractive to him as he
had promised himself that it would be, although not for a single instant
did his purpose of revenge relax.
Pages:
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540