dead body or a ghost--that sitting there with that lifeless but yet
breathing creature. Every now and again, as he endeavoured to fill
his mind with some idea that was not distressing to him, the thoughts
of the horrors of his own position would come across him--the almost
certainty of detection--the ignominy of his future punishment--the
disgrace to his father and his sister; and even if not detected, if
left in his present concealment, the horrors of such a life as he
was now leading, a few hours of which had already nearly made him
frantic, nearly overwhelmed him.

He got up, and leaving his companion to himself, he went to the
lime-kiln and laid himself on the top of it, looking down the
mountain towards Loch Allen and Drumshambo, that he might see if any
of the police were coming in search of him. The open air was for a
time pleasanter than the close heat of the burning turf, and solitude
by far preferable to the company of that silent old man,--but it was
only for a short time that he felt the relief. The horrid inactivity
of the day, joined to the weight that was on his mind, nearly drove
him mad; as long as he had work to do,--while he had to dispose
of the dead man's body,--while he had his father and his sister
near him,--as long as he was hurrying through the country with
Reynolds,--the energy of whose character had for a time relieved
him,--as long as the sweat was pouring down his face, and his legs
had been weary under him,--he had borne much better the misery, which
he felt now he was always doomed to bear; for he had then thought
less of the past and the future; but now he could occupy his mind
with nothing but the remembrance of the death he had inflicted, and
the anticipation of the death he was to suffer. He tried to sleep,
but it was in vain; he tried to imitate that old man, and let his
mind sleep, but no, he could only think--he could not but think. Oh!
he said to himself, that it were all over--if it were only done--if
he could only swallow up the next six months and be dead and
forgotten! If he had got past that dreadful trial--that cold
unfeeling prison, with the harsh noise of the large key and the
fetters, the stern judge, and the twelve stern men sworn to hang him
if he deserved it! If he could escape the eyes of the whole country
which would then be on him; the harsh, cold, solemn words which would
then be addressed to him--the sorrow of his father--the shame of his
sister--and, last and w