as he did so the cold sweat stood upon his brow--how lately he had
sat in company where the murder of this very man whom now he had
killed had been coolly canvassed and decided on, and he had been one
of those who were to be banded together for its execution. Would all
this be forgotten at his trial? Would there not certainly be some one
to come forward at that horrid hour, and swear these things against
him--ay, and truly swear them? And then he fancied the precision
with which he knew each damning word he had lightly uttered would
be brought against him. Would not these things surely condemn him?
Would they not surely hang him? It would be useless for him, then, to
open his bosom and to declare to them how hateful--even during the
feverish hours of that detested evening--the idea of murder had been
to his soul. It would be useless for him to tell them that even then,
at that same time, he had cautioned Ussher to avoid the danger with
which he was threatened. It would be vain for him to declare how soon
and how entirely he had since repented of the folly of which he had
on that occasion been guilty. The stern faces by whom he would be
surrounded at his trial--when he should stand in that disgraceful
spot, with his head leaning on that bar so often pressed by
murderers, miscreants, and thieves--would receive his protestations
very differently from that benign friend who had previously comforted
him in his misery. They would neither listen to nor believe his
assurances; and he said involuntarily to himself--"Murder! of course
they'll call it murder! of course they'll hang me!"

The oftener he thought of this, the more he hurried, for he felt that
the police would be soon in search of him, and that at most he had
but that night to escape from them. As these ideas crossed his mind
he hastened along the lane leading to Drumleesh, sometimes running
and sometimes walking, till the perspiration stood upon his brow. If
it was murder that he had done--if the world should consider it as
murder--then he would most probably soon be in the same condition as
that criminal whose trial had so vividly occurred to his recollection
a few days ago. At that time the idea had only haunted him; he had
only then dreamt of the possibility of his situation being the same
as that man's, and the very horror he had then felt at the bare
thought had made him determined to avoid those who could even talk
of the crime which would lead to that situati