“Who are going?” asked the other, his eyes fixed on the ground. John Rex enumerated the eight, and Dawes raised his head. “I won't go. I have had two trials at it; I don't want another. I would advise you not to attempt it either.”
“Why not?”
“Gabbett bolted twice before,” said Rufus Dawes, shuddering at the remembrance of the ghastly object he had seen in the sunlit glen at Hell's Gates. “Others went with him, but each time he returned alone.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rex, struck by the tone of his companion.
“What became of the others?”
“Died, I suppose,” said the Dandy, with a forced laugh.
“Yes; but how? They were all without food. How came the surviving monster to live six weeks?”
John Rex grew a shade paler, and did not reply. He recollected the sanguinary legend that pertained to Gabbett's rescue. But he did not intend to make the journey in his company, so, after all, he had no cause for fear. “Come with me then,” he said, at length. “We will try our luck together.”
“No. I have resolved. I stay here.”
“And leave your innocence unproved.”