| CHAP. | PAGE | |
| XXXVII. | THE ANSWER OF CAIN | [7] |
| XXXVIII. | WANTED AT LAST | [16] |
| XXXIX. | ONE FOR THEE AND TWO FOR ME | [25] |
| XL. | A GREAT FEAR | [35] |
| XLI. | TAKING SHAPE | [45] |
| XLII. | AN UGLY HINT | [54] |
| XLIII. | MUCH CRY AND A LITTLE WOOL | [64] |
| XLIV. | PUDDICOMBE IN F | [74] |
| XLV. | DAYLIGHT | [82] |
| XLVI. | A TRIUMPH | [91] |
| XLVII. | PARTED | [100] |
| XLVIII. | A SHADOW-SHAPE | [110] |
| XLIX. | FLAGRANTE DELICTO | [118] |
| L. | THE THIRD FIRE | [128] |
| LI. | THE PASS’N’S PRESCRIPTION | [137] |
| LII. | IN COURT | [145] |
| LIII. | JASON’S STORY | [156] |
| LIV. | CON AFFETTUOSO CAPRIZIO | [165] |
KITTY ALONE
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE ANSWER OF CAIN
The accommodation of the little inn was not extensive, so Pasco had to be put into the same room with the lawyer, and Kitty slept with the innkeeper’s daughter.
Pasco would have greatly preferred a room to himself. He was in a condition of unrest. As it was not possible for him to return to Coombe Cellars that night, he was in ferment of mind, uncertain whether it were advisable that he should return there that week, whether he should not go with Mr. Squire to Tavistock to make provision for the burial of his uncle, and to see after his estate. He had added crime to crime to save his credit as a man of substance, and all had been in vain. The succession to his uncle’s estate supplied him with what he required. Why had not the old man died a day earlier? Why, but that fate had impelled him into crime only then to mock him. If fate could play such malicious tricks with him, might it not pursue its grim joke further, lift the veil, disclose what he had done, and just as the property of his relative came to him, just as the money from the insurance company was due–strike him down, drive him into penal servitude, if not send him to the gallows? He tossed on his bed; he could not sleep.
At one moment he resolved to go with the solicitor to Tavistock, and remain there till the funeral, or till he received news of what had taken place at home. But a devouring desire to know what had happened, what was the extent of his crime, to know whether Jason had escaped, whether the fire had been put out, what his wife thought, what was the general opinion relative to the fire,–all this drew him homewards.
Moreover, his sprained ankle and arm were painful, and he could lie on one side only. In the night he put out his hand for his coat, drew it to him, and groped for the box of lucifer matches. He desired to light a candle, rise, and bind a wet towel round his foot.
But the box was missing.