Then a cry of mingled rage and despair burst from the breast of the Resurrection Man,—a cry resembling that of the wolf when struck by the bullet of the hunter's carbine!
"The hour of vengeance is come at last!" exclaimed Crankey Jem, as he lighted the candle in a small lantern which he took from his pocket. "There shall you remain, Tidkins—to perish by starvation—to die by inches—to feel the approach of Death by means of such slow tortures that you will curse the day which saw your birth!"
"Jem, do not say all that!" cried the Resurrection Man, from the interior of the dungeon. "You would not be so cruel? Let me out—and we will be friends."
"Never!" ejaculated Cuffin. "What! have I hunted after you—dogged you—watched you—then lost sight of you for two years—now found you out again—at length got you into my power—and all this for nothing?"
"Well, Jem—I know that I used you badly," said the Resurrection Man, in an imploring tone: "but forgive me—pray forgive me! Surely you were sufficiently avenged by plundering me of my treasure—my hoarded gold—my casket of jewels?"
"Miserable wretch!" cried Crankey Jem, in a tone of deep disgust: "do not imagine that I took your gold and your jewels to enrich myself. No: had I been starving, I would not have purchased a morsel of bread by means of their aid! Two hours after I had become possessed of your treasure, I consigned it all—yes, all—gold and jewels—to the bed of the Thames!"
"Then are you not sufficiently avenged?" demanded Tidkins, in a voice denoting how fiercely rage was struggling with despair in his breast.
"Your death, amidst lingering tortures, will alone satisfy me!" returned Crankey Jem. "Monster that you are, you shall meet the fate which you had reserved for an excellent nobleman whose virtues are as numerous as your crimes!"
"What good will my death do you, Jem?" cried Tidkins, his tone now characterised only by an expression of deep—intense—harrowing despair.