“Easy, mfriend!” he exclaimed, in a voice that was rendered infirm by terror; “do not take my life--don't murder me--you shall have my money.” “Murdher!” shouted the other. “Ah, you black dog of hell, it is on your red sowl that many a murdher lies. Murdher!” he exclaimed, in words that were thick, vehement, and almost unintelligible with rage. “Ay, murdher is it? It was a just God that put the words into your guilty heart--and wicked lips--prepare, your last moment's come--your doom is sealed--are you ready to die, villain?” The whole black and fearful tenor of the baronet's life came like a vision of hell itself over his conscience, now fearfully awakened to the terrible position in which he felt himself placed. “Oh, no!” he replied, in a voice whose tremulous tones betrayed the full extent of his agony and terrors. “Oh, no!” he exclaimed. “Spare me, whoever you are--spare my life, and if you will come to mo to-morrow, I promise, in the presence of God, to make you independent as long as you live. Oh, spare me, for the sake of the living God--for I am not fit to die. If you kill me now, you will have the perdition of my soul to answer for at the bar of judgment. If you spare me, I will reform my life--I will become a virtuous man.” “Well,” replied the other, relaxing--“for the sake of the name you have used, and in the hope that this may be a warnin' to you for your good, I will leave your wicked and worthless life with you. No, I'll not be the man that will hurl you into perdition--but it is on one condition--you must hand me out your money before I have time to count ten. Listen now--if I haven't every farthing that's about you before that reckonin's made, the bullet that's in this pistol will be through your brain.” The expedition of the baronet was amazing, for as Jemmy went on with this disastrous enumeration, steadily and distinctly, but not quickly, he had only time to get as far as eight when he found himself in possession of the baronet's purse. “Is it all here?” he asked. “No tricks--no lyin'--the truth? for I'll search you.” “You may,” replied the other, with confidence; “and you may shoot me, too, if you find another farthing in my possession.” “Now, then,” said Trailcudgel, “get home as well as you can, and reform your life as you promised--as for me, I'll keep the pistols; indeed, for my own sake, for I have no notion of putting them into your hands at present.” He then disappeared, and the baronet, having with considerable difficulty gained the box-seat, reached home somewhat lighter in pocket than he had left it, convinced besides that an unexpected visit from a natural apparition is frequently much more to be dreaded than one from the supernatural.