Still, his presence was a torture and reproach; in his wild eyes, there were terrible images of that guilty night; with his unearthly aspect, and his half-formed mind, he seemed to the murderer a creature who had sprung into existence from his victim's blood.

He could not bear his look, his voice, his touch; and yet he was forced, by his own desperate condition and his only hope of cheating the gibbet, to have him by his side, and to know that he was inseparable from his single chance of escape.
He walked to and fro, with little rest, all day, revolving these things in his mind; and still Hugh lay, unconscious, in the shed.

At length, when the sun was setting, Barnaby returned, leading the blind man, and talking earnestly to him as they came along together.
The murderer advanced to meet them, and bidding his son go on and speak to Hugh, who had just then staggered to his feet, took his place at the blind man's elbow, and slowly followed, towards the shed.
'Why did you send HIM ?' said Stagg.

'Don't you know it was the way to have him lost, as soon as found ?' 'Would you have had me come myself ?' returned the other.
'Humph! Perhaps not.

I was before the jail on Tuesday night, but missed you in the crowd.