The man saluted and was about to retire, when he caught sight of Gabriel bound to the pillar, his head drooped on his breast, his frame hanging lifeless, supported only by the cords.
The Irishman’s eyes widened, he crossed himself rapidly. “The prisoner!” he stammered. “Why—yer honour—sure then he’s a dead man!”
“Hold the light nearer!” said Norton sharply, and with an uneasiness he could not have explained he put his ear to the heart that was now strangely still, though but a few minutes ago he had felt it throbbing with passionate indignation.
CHAPTER XIX.
Faith can raise earth to heaven, or draw down
Heaven to earth, make both extremes to meet,
Felicity and misery, can crown
Reproach with honour, season sour with sweet.