said at last. "I don't even remember going
out of the house. I can remember his striking me in the face again and
again, and then I heard my mother scream, and everything seems to have
become misty. But I know I was walking about; I know that I was worrying
to get at him, and that if I had met him I should have attacked him, and
if I had had anything in my hand I should have killed him."

"But you don't remember doing anything, Ned? You cannot recall that you
went anywhere and got a rope and fastened it across the road with the
idea of upsetting his gig on the way back from the mill?"

"No, sir," Ned said decidedly; "I can't recollect anything of that at
all. I am quite sure if I had done that I should remember it; for I seem
to remember, now I think of it, a good deal of what I did. Yes, I went
up through Varley; the lights weren't out, and I wondered what Bill
would say if I were to knock at his door and he opened it and saw what
a state my face was in. Then I went out on the moor, and it seems to me
that I walked about for hours, and the longer I walked the more angry I
was. At last--it could not have been long before morning, I think--I lay
down for a time, and then when it was light I made up my mind to go over
and see Abijah. I knew she would be with me. That's all I remember about
it. Does my mother think I did it?"

Dr. Green hesitated a moment.

"Your mother is not in a state to think one way or the other, Ned; she
is in such a state of grief that she hardly knows what she is saying or
doing."

In fact Mrs. Mulready entertained no doubt whatever upon the subject,
and had continued to speak of Ned's wickedness until Dr. Green that
morning had lost all patience with her, and told her she ought to be
ashamed of herself to be the first to accuse her son, and that if he was
hung she would only have herself to blame for it.

Ned guessed by the doctor's answer that his mother was against him.

"It is curious," he said, "she did not take on so after my father's
death, and he was always kind and good to her, while this man was just
the reverse."

"There's never any understanding women," Dr. Green said testily, "and
your mother is a singularly inconsequent and weak specimen of her sex.
Well, Ned, and so that is all you can tell us about the way you passed
that unfortunate evening. What a pity it is, to be sure, that you did
not rouse up your friend Bill. His evidence would probably have cleared
you at once. As