Vol.1 f.045 recto

caused him to desist; then pointed to the body with an inquiring look.
"There's blood upon him," said Barnaby with a shudder. "It makes me sick!"
" How came it there?" demanded Varden.
"Steel, steel, steel!" he replied fiercely, imitating with his hand the thrust of a sword.
"Is he robbed?" said the locksmith.
Barnaby caught him by the arm, and nodded " Yes;" then pointed towards the city.
"Oh!" said the old man bending over the body and looking round as he spoke into Barnaby's pale face, strangely lighted up by something that was [1not]1 intellect. "The robber made off that way, did he? Well, well, never mind that just now. Hold your torch this way -- a little farther off-- so. Now stand quiet, while I try to see what harm is done."
With these words, he applied himself to a closer examination of the prostrate form, while Barnaby, holding the torch as he had been directed, looked on in silence, fascinated by interest or curiosity, but repelled nevertheless by some strong and secret horror which convulsed him in every nerve.
As he stood, at that moment, half shrinking back and half bending forward, both his face and figure were full in the strong glare of the link, and as distinctly revealed as though it had been broad day. He was about