The man was clad only in a tattered shirt and old moleskins; his face was as gaunt as that of death, and his skin a ghastly yellow.

He moved into the room on his hands and knees, seeking something, and chummered insanely as he scratched at the hard flooring-boards with his claw-like fingers, and peered eagerly into the cracks.

He moved about the room in this way, searching in the corners, dragging his way about with his face close to the floor.
'I'll find it, I'll find it,' he muttered; 'oh! I'll find it.

Rogers is cunnin', but I'm more cunnin'.

I know where it's hid, an' when I get it it'll be mine--all mine! Mrs.Hardy stole close to the girl, and they clasped hands.
'Is he mad ?' asked the elder woman hoarsely.
'He has taken a fever, I think,' answered the girl, 'and I can hide him no longer.