that horrid scritch, nor the face of the villain that was over him, like a beast over its prey. He was tuggin' at his throat, like you'd be tryin' to tear up a tree by the roots--you never see such a face. His teeth was set, and the froth comin' through, and his black eyebrows screwed together, you'd think they'd crack the thin hooked nose of him between them, and he pantin' like a wild beast. He looked like a madman, I tell you; 'twas bright moonlight, and the trees bare, and the shadows of the branches was switchin' across his face." "You saw that face distinctly?" asked David Arden. "As clear as yours this minute." "Now tell me--and think first--was he a bit like that Mr. Longcluse whose appearance startled you the other evening?" asked Mr. Arden, in a very low tone, with his eyes fixed on her intensely. "No, no, no! not a bit. He had a small mouth and white teeth, and a great beak of a nose. No, no, no! not he. I saw him strike somethin' that shone--a knife or a dagger--into the poor lad's throat, and he struck it down at my head, as you know, and I mind nothin' after that. I'll carry the scar o' that murderer's blow to my grave. There's the whole story, and God forgi'e ye for asking me, for it gi'es me t' creepins for a week after; and I didn't conceit 'twould 'a' made me sa excited, Sir, or I would not 'a' bargained to tell it to-night--not that I blame ye, Master David, for I thought, myself, that I could bear it better--and I do believe, as I have gone so far in it, 'tis better to make one job of it, and a finish. So ye'll ask me any question ye like, and I'll make the best answer I can; only, Master David, ye'll not be o'er long about it?" "You are a good creature, Martha. I am sorry to pain you, but I pain myself, and you know why I ask these questions." "Ay, Sir, and I'd rather hear ye ask them than see you sit as easy under all that as some does, that owed the poor fellow as much love as ever you did, and were as near akin." "I am puzzled, Martha, and hitherto I have been baffled, but I won't give it up yet. You say that the wretch who struck you was a singular-looking man, at least as you describe him. I know, Martha, I can rely upon your caution--you will not repeat to any one what passes in our interview." He lowered his voice. "You do not think that this Mr. Longcluse--a rich gentleman, you know and a person who thinks he's of some consequence, a person whom we must not look at, you know, as if he had two heads--you really don't think that this Mr. Longcluse has any resemblance to the villain whom you saw stab my brother, and who struck you?" "Not he--no more than I have. No, no, Mr. Longcluse is quite another sort of face; but for all that, when he came in here, and I saw him before me, his face and his speech reminded me of that night." "How was that, Martha? Did he resemble the other man--the man who was aiding?" "That fellow was hanged, ye'll mind, Master David."