Hemmed in completely—every avenue closed. It was clear that the chain of evidence must be complete—they were so confident, too, of getting him.
He went to a cupboard, took out a bottle of brandy, and poured out a moderate drink. After drinking the liquor, Hall began to pace the floor, which, unlike the partitions, was solid, and his quick nervous step made no sound.
"Trapped! Cornered like a rat! Well, cornered rats are dangerous, gentlemen! Look out! you haven't killed it yet!"
Pausing, a little back from the window, he looked out and saw the man in the same position. Then he resumed his walk, more like a caged tiger than a human being.
"One down-stairs, one in front, one in the rear and this one up-stairs! Four man-hunters! Let me see!"
Stopping, he opened his trunk and took out a pair of pistols, which he laid on the table.
"Four! If it was in the open—But pshaw! What difference would one or two make! I'm trapped! The game is over and I've lost! Lost!" he repeated hoarsely. "Lost! Lost everything—a fortune, a good name and a beautiful wife! An hour ago it was castles! Now it's gibbets! Kate! Kate! But for her I would not mind it so much!"
His face changed for a moment and became softened, but quickly resumed its former demonical expression as he resumed his walk.
"You've trapped me—Yes! But the rope never was made to hang me! I'm prepared for that at any rate! Never! No trial! No rope! No morbid fool's curiosity!"
Stopping again, he poured out more liquor.