And with these words, he advanced towards Affidavy, who now perceived that his right arm was swathed in bandages across his breast, as if maimed by some injury. But his left hand he brandished with menacing gesticulation, and his countenance was covered with a ghastly frown; so that Affidavy feared nothing less than that he should be immediately torn to pieces. From this apprehension, which deprived him of the power of raising a finger in self-defence, he was relieved by the sudden appearance of the jailer, who, entering the cell with an oath, seized upon the madman, and shook him with violence, until he groaned with pain, suffering himself to be pushed back upon the bed.
"I'll have the law of you, Bob Lingo!" said the attorney, starting up from an ecstasy of fear to lanch into a tumult of rage; "I'll have the law of you, you villain! and what's more, I'll chouse you out of your fees and bribes,—your cheating and tampering with the prisoner, Hyland Gilbert: he's an innocent man, you rascal, and you know it! and here's this man Sterling has avowed the murder himself."
"Ods bobs!" said Lingo, "what do you mean?"
"I mean what I say," cried Affidavy, whom rage, the desire of requiting upon Lingo some of the disappointments he had himself endured, and a sudden prospect that seemed to open on him of retrieving his lost fortune, had restored to the possession of his faculties. "I mean, that my client, Hyland Gilbert, whom you cheated out of my services, is an innocent man; and that there lies the true criminal. He has confessed the whole matter; murder and perjury—murder and perjury, you villain! do you hear that? and I'll make him depose the particulars, you cheating, covetous, conniving rapscallion! and so chouse you out of all your expected fees, you rascal! botheration, I will!—Harkee, you Sterling!" he said, now advancing boldly towards the object of his late fears, "you've blabbed all, and so you may as well confess at once. I overheard all you said; and my testimony will settle the matter; so, for the good of your soul, confess. You're a dying man; the devil's as good as got you already—you'll not last a day longer; so confess, confess, and don't damn yourself for ever, by hanging an innocent man. What! do you pretend to deny it?" he continued, adopting a course of persuasion founded on what he had witnessed of the prisoner's hallucinations—"do you see that young man there, with the bloody throat, frowning? Look—I know him well—it is young Harry Falconer!"
"Ay," said Sterling, rolling his eyes to the wall; "but where is the other?"
"Why, they are hanging him; and all because you swore falsely against him."
"Is he alive yet?" muttered Sterling; "I thought he was dead. Send me a priest, and I'll confess."
"A priest! A magistrate, you mean."
"It is all one—I am a dying man; there is something wrong here,—here," he murmured, striking his forehead. "I will do reparation—ask me what you will; but drive Henry Falconer out of the room; ay, and take that young Hawk off my feet—he chills them to the marrow."
"It was your pistol killed Henry Falconer?" cried the lawyer.