As soon as Ned had been led back to the cell Mr. Porson obtained permission to visit him. He found him in a strange humor.
“Well, my poor boy,” he began, “this is a terrible business.”
“Who do you mean it is a terrible business for, Mr. Porson, me or him?”
Ned spoke in a hard unnatural voice, without the slightest tone of trouble or emotion. Mr. Porson perceived at once that his nerves were brought up to such a state of tension by the events of the preceding forty-eight hours that he was scarce responsible for what he was saying.
“I think I meant for you, Ned. I cannot pretend to have any feeling for the man who is dead, especially when I look at your face.”
“Yes, it is not a nice position for me,” Ned said coldly, “just at the age of seventeen to be suspected of the murder of one's stepfather, and such a nice stepfather too, such a popular man in the town! And not only suspected, but with a good chance of being hung for it.”
“Ned, my dear boy,” Mr. Porson said kindly, “don't talk in that way. You know that we, your friends, are sure that you did not do it.”
“Are you quite sure, sir?” Ned said. “I am not quite sure myself. I know I should have done it if I had had the chance. I thought over all sorts of ways in which I might kill him, and I wouldn't quite swear that I did not think of this plan and carry it out, though it doesn't quite seem to me that I did. I have no very definite idea what happened that night, and certainly could give but a vague account of myself from the time I left the house till next morning, when I found myself lying stiff and half frozen on the moor. Anyhow, whether I killed him or not it's all the same. I should have done so if I could. And if some one else has saved me the trouble I suppose I ought to feel obliged to him.”
Mr. Porson saw that in Ned's present state it was useless to talk to him. Two nights without sleep, together with the intense excitement he had gone through, had worked his brain to such a state of tension that he was not responsible for what he was saying. Further conversation would do him harm rather than good. What he required was rest and, if possible, sleep. Mr. Porson therefore only said quietly:
“We will not talk about it now, Ned; your brain is over excited with all you have gone through. What you want now is rest and sleep.”