But the man wanted no help for himself.

As soon as he felt another hand touch his he pressed the stone into it.
'I can't see,' he whispered hoarsely.

'Take it, you, and kill him, kill him, kill him! smash his skull!' Hyacinth took the stone.

The feel of the man's blood warm on it and the fierce yelling and stamping of the crowd filled him with a mad lust of hate against Shea, who stood as if suddenly paralyzed within a few feet of him.

He wrenched his hand free, and with a mighty effort flung the stone.