He turned to go.
"But your promise?" said Barnwell.
"Bah!" was the only reply he received, and the next moment he was alone again.
A mocking laugh came from the opposite cell-door grating, and naturally the abandoned youth looked in the direction.
But the face he saw between the bars was hideous enough to make his blood almost curdle.
How old that face was, of what nationality, of what grade of intellect, he could not tell, for his face was in the shade of that dark place.
Again came the mocking laugh, as young Barnwell stood looking and wondering.
"Who are you?" he finally asked.
That laugh again, and Barnwell concluded that the person must be a lunatic, although he could but shudder at the thought that he might have been driven to madness by the very same imprisonment which enshackled him, and so turned away.
His own misery was quite enough for him, and just then he was in no humor to listen to another's.