D. Holland

“ The man was speaking at the moment; and as the sound of his voice drew my eyes towards him, I beheld beside him an object that made my blood run cold—a large, shining hatchet or cleaver.
“I can’t help it, lass,” he was saying; “I don’t like the job; and I wish the thing could be done some other way. About taking the gold I’m not particular to a hair, and in a downright tussle I shouldn’t much mind knocking a fellow on the head. But to murder a man in his sleep—dang me, but it goes against my kidney.” ”

“ I was pleasantly anticipating a quiet night by my own fire-side, with a hot cup of tea and the London morning paper, when the train came dashing in and pulled up with a shriek, and a head was thrust out from one of the carriages, whilst the familiar voice of my friend Carston hailed me.
“Ned, old follow,” he said, as I hurried up to him, “I want you to do me a great favour. You see this bag: it contains two hundred sovereigns. To-morrow is rent-day, and I got this cash for the old man this morning. You know the craze he has for paying in gold. ”

“ Declining the bread which the man offered me, I drew nearer to the fire. I took the pistol from my breast-pocket and laid it on the ground beside me; and as I stooped to do this, the bag of gold struck against the stool with a musical clink of the coins within. The next moment, when I raised my head, I found the terrible eyes of the woman fastened upon me with a glare more hungry and wolfish than before. I was startled and (almost mechanically) thrust the bag into my breast. She turned away, muttering something about my bed, and went into the other room of the cabin. ”

“ The chap is fast asleep now—the fatigue and the brandy have done for him, and you can hear him moaning as he sleeps. This ugly bit of steel may be useless, after all. A cloth upon his mouth and my hand upon his windpipe may be enough. There will be no signs of blood; and when they do find him after the snow melts, they will say he perished in the storm.”
“Now, Bill,” said the woman, with a horrid show of admiration, “you talk like a man, and a wise one. ”

“ I asked the man to guide me to Carston’s, and offered to pay him well.
“Not for all the money they say old Carston has in the bank,” he answered, “would I attempt to go over the moor to-night. Why, man, the snow is falling so thick you couldn’t see a yard before you. It would be as much as our lives are worth. Men have met their doom upon that moor outside, before now, on such a night as this.” ”

“ Human life had been sacrificed more than once, amid the snow-drift, on that wild moor-land, and sheep innumerable had been lost. To make my danger greater, the place was full of pits and hollows, where mining speculators had tried to sink shafts in former years. ”

“ The up-train is not due for a full hour yet; and perhaps my story may help as well as anything else to kill time. Fill your glass, then, and draw nearer to the fire; for that drifting snow outside does not make this winter night too warm.
You say you knew at once, when first you saw me, that I had served. Well, no doubt the soldier who has been in active service always bears the stamp of his profession about him. I have smelt powder on more than one field. ”

“ There was no alternative.
“All you can do,” said the man, “is to keep where you are to-night; and be thankful that you have the shelter of even these miserable walls on such a night as this is. It will be well even, if this infernal snow-storm does not bury the cabin itself before morning. If you want anything to eat, you can have a crust of bread—that’s all we have—and in that room inside you may lie down on the straw till morning comes. But you do look horribly beaten up ”

“ He rose and pushed towards me the stool on which he had been seated.
“Sit you down, man,” he said, somewhat less roughly, “you look weak, and a broken arm is no trifle. Though what we can do for you, hang me if I know. But what errand took you out upon the moor such a night as this?”
“I was going from Longley, on important business, to Farmer Carston’s.”
“From Longley to old Carston’s!” he exclaimed. “Whew! Why, man, you chose a very round-about way to get to your journey’s end.” ”

“ I am not an old man, you say? Well, you are right there: one is not usually considered old at the age of forty-five. Why am I so bald, then? Ah, friend, you may well ask. Men do not usually lose their hair so early in life; and my scalp was polished, in this shining fashion, some fifteen years ago. It took only one grim night’s work to do it all. ”

“ You’re a plucky girl, Sal, but d’ye think I’d let a woman do what I had not the courage to attempt myself? I told you I did not like the job: I had rather get at the money any other way; but I didn’t tell you that I wouldn’t do it. ”