"My dear sir, we have as much right here as any one else; and if we find a man dying here of cold and fatigue--" "What business of yours, if I choose to die?" "There is no harm in your dying, sir," says Naylor. "The harm is in our letting you die; I assure you it is entirely to satisfy our own consciences we are troubling you thus;" and he begins pressing him to take food. "No, sir; nothing from you! You have shown me impertinence enough in the last few weeks, without pressing on me benefits for which I do not wish. Let me go! If you will not leave me, I shall leave you!" And he tried to rise: but, stiffened with cold, sank back again upon the rock. In vain they tried to reason with him; begged his pardon for all past jests: he made effort after effort to get up; and at last, his limbs, regaining strength by the fierceness of his passion, supported him; and he struggled onward toward the northern slope of the mountain. "You must not go down till it is light; it is as much as your life is worth." "I am going to Bangor, sir; and go I will!" "I tell you, there is fifteen hundred feet of slippery screes below you." "As steep as a house-roof, and with every tile on it loose. You will roll from top to bottom before you have gone a hundred yards." "What care I? Let me go, I say! Curse you, sir! Do you mean to use force?" "I do," said Wynd quietly, as he took him round arms and body, and set him down on the rock like a child. "You have assaulted me, sir! The law shall avenge this insult, if there be law in England!" "I know nothing about law: but I suppose it will justify me in saving any man's life who is rushing to certain death." "Look here, sir!" said Naylor. "Go down, if you will, when it grows light: but from this place you do not stir yet. Whatever you may think of our conduct to-night, you will thank us for it to-morrow morning, when you see where you are." The unhappy man stamped with rage. The red glare of the lanthorn showed him his two powerful warders, standing right and left. He felt that there was no escape from them, but in darkness; and suddenly he dashed at the lanthorn, and tried to tear it out of Wynd's hands. "Steady, sir!" said Wynd, springing back, and parrying his outstretched hand. "If you wish us to consider you in your senses, you will be quiet." "And if you don't choose to appear sane," said Naylor, "you must not be surprised if we treat you as men are treated who--you understand me." Elsley was silent awhile; his rage, finding itself impotent, subsided into dark cunning. "Really, gentlemen," he said at length, "I believe you are right; I have been very foolish, and you very kind; but you would excuse my absurdities if you knew their provocation."