crazy clerk, you consummate blockhead!'

''Twon't do, Sir, you sha'n't sting me by insult into passion; nor
frighten me by big words and big looks into hesitation. My duty's clear,
and be the consequences what they may, I'll carry the matter through.'

'Frighten you! ha, ha, ha!' and Dangerfield glared at his bloody
shirt-sleeve, and laughed a chilly sneer; 'no, Sir, but I'll punish you,
with Doctor Sturk's declaration against the babble of poor Zekiel Irons.
I'll quickly close your mouth.'

'Sir, I never made it a practice yet to hide evidence from a prisoner.
Why should I desire to put you out of the world, if you're innocent?
Doctor Sturk, Sir, has denounced you distinctly upon oath. Charles
Archer, going by the name of Paul Dangerfield, and residing in this
house, called the "Brass Castle," as the person who attempted to murder
him in the Butcher's Wood.'

'_What_, Sir? Doctor Sturk denounce _me_! Fore heaven, Sir--it seems to
me you've all lost your wits. Doctor Sturk!--? Doctor Sturk charge _me_
with having assaulted him! why--curse it, Sir--it can't possibly be--you
can't believe it; and, if he said it, the man's raving still.'

'He has said it, Sir.'

'Then, Sir, in the devil's name, didn't it strike you as going rather
fast to shoot me on my own hearth-stone--_me_, knowing all you do about
me--with no better warrant than the talk of a man with a shattered
brain, awakening from a lethargy of months? Sir, though the laws afford
no punishment exemplary enough for such atrocious precipitation, I
promise you I'll exact the last penalty they provide; and now, Sir, take
me where you will; I can't resist. Having shot me, do what you may to
interrupt my business; to lose my papers and accounts; to prevent my
recovery, and to blast my reputation--Sir, I shall have compensation for
all.'

So saying, Dangerfield, with his left hand, clapt his cocked hat on, and
with a ghastly smile nodded a farewell to Mrs. Jukes, who, sobbing
plentifully, had placed his white surtout, cloakwise over his shoulders,
buttoning it about his throat. The hall-door stood open; the candles
flared in the night air, and with the jaunty, resolute step of a man
marching to victory and revenge, he walked out, and lightly mounted to
his place. She saw the constables get in, and one glimpse more of the
white grim face she knew so well, the defiant smirk, the blood-stained
shirt-sleeve, and the coach-door shut. At the crack of the whip and the
dr