The victim heard the words, and, with something like an effort at a laugh, though seemingly in great agony, exclaimed—
"Ah, Munro, is that you?—I am so glad! but I'm afraid you come too late. This is a cruel blow; and—for what? What have I done to you, that—oh!—"
The tones of the voice—the person of the suffering man—were now readily distinguishable.
"Good God! Rivers, what is to be the end of all this blundering?"
"Who would have thought to find him here?" was the ferocious answer; the disappointed malice of the speaker prompting him to the bitterest feelings against the unintended victim—"why was he in the way? he is always in the way!"
"I am afraid you've done for him."
"We must be sure of it."
"Great God! would you kill him?"
"Why not? It must be done now."
The wounded man beheld the action of the speaker, and heard the discussion. He gasped out a prayer for life:—