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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Stories, Studies and Sketches"


"H'out yer goes!" repeated the landlord. "And think yerself lucky it
aint worse," added the drover.
With no further defence I slunk out into the night once more.
A small crowd of children (Heaven knows whence or how they gathered)
followed me up the court and out into the street. Their numbers
swelled as I went on, and some began to hoot and pelt me; but when I
gained the top of the hill, and a lonelier district, I turned and
struck among them with my stick. It did my heart good to hear their
screams.
After that I was let alone, and tramped forward past the scattered
houses, towards the open country and the moors. Up here there was
scarcely any fog, but I could see it, by the rising moon, hanging
like a shroud over the town below. The next town was near upon
twelve miles off, but I do not remember that I thought of getting so
far. I could not have thought at all, in fact, or I should hardly
have taken the high-road upon which the jeweller had been stopped and
murdered.
There was a shrewd wind blowing, and I shivered all over; but the
cold at my heart was worse, and my hate of the man who had set it
there grew with every step. I thought of the four months and more
which parted the two lives of Gabriel Foot, and what I should make of
the new one. I had my chance again--a chance gained for me beyond
hope by that counsel but for whom I should be sleeping to-night in
the condemned cell; a chance, and a good chance, but for that same
cursed lawyer.


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