Theodore Winthrop

“ From time to time I turned to glance at Towner. He sat erect and alert, with cheeks burning and eyes aflame. The inner fire had kindled up his manhood again. “I would not give much for Densdeth’s life,” thought I, “if his late serf should meet him now. The man is capable of one spasm of vengeance. He looks, with his twitching face and uneasy fingers, as if he could rend the being that has debased him, and then die.” ”

“ Is he dead? No. I am dying. Shall I be safe from him hereafter? I haven’t had a fair chance in this world. What could a man do better — born in a jail?”
Towner drooped slowly down as he spoke. He ended, and his defeated life passed away from that worn-out body, the comrade of its ignominy.
I raised Densdeth’s head. The strange fascination of his face became doubly subtle, as he seemed still to gaze at me with closed eyelids, like a statue’s. I felt that, if those cold feline eyes should open and again turn their inquisition inward upon my soul, devilish passions would quicken there anew. ”

“ There was a hot, hectic spot in his cheek, just now mere pale parchment.
“Embers ablaze at last!” thought I. “The man has struck a blow for freedom, and now he begins to hunger for vengeance. He has shaken off Densdeth; he looks as if he could turn and tear him.”
“I should like to go with you, Mr. Churm, if you please,” said Towner. “The drive will do me good. Huffmire knows me. He might open his doors to me, as Densdeth’s friend, when he would exclude you.”
“Very well,” said Churm; “come, if you feel strong enough. But you must let Locksley fit you out with clothes.” ”