At length—it was getting towards the close of the afternoon, and unable longer to bear the sight of my beloved one’s torment—I turned away, and as my eyes fell upon the crowd, I noticed within it a movement of renewed excitement. I remarked, moreover, that Mr Hesketh had also observed it, for I saw him remove his cigar (he had been smoking almost unintermittingly since daybreak), and I heard him murmur: ‘What are they up to now?’ They were the first words he had spoken that day, and as they left his lips he started violently, for a bullet had whizzed past his ear, actually grazing it. The rifle had been discharged from behind him, and from the top of a wall belonging to the mill in process of building, and which stood quite separately and at some distance from the chimney.
‘Oh, that’s the game, is it?’ exclaimed my reckless and now sullen enemy, speedily recovering his nonchalance of bearing. ‘Well, that can easily be put a stop to. My dear fellow, I must seek protection beneath your wing. They won’t shoot at me now.’ And resuming his smoking, he offered me a cigar. ‘Better take one,’ he said sulkily, as I refused the weed with disgust. ‘Smoking is a good preventive of hunger; and I daresay you are beginning to feel hungry.’
I was not hungry in the least; but I had for some hours been consumed with a terrible thirst; and as it presently occurred to me to produce an increase of saliva, by chewing a corner of my handkerchief, I felt for it in my pocket. But instead of my handkerchief, my hand lighted upon another object, cool and round, and in an instant my heart ‘leaped into my throat.’ I managed, however, to remain motionless, though the blood tingled through my veins with excitement, and I was obliged to keep my face turned from him, least the inspiration of hope upon it should be visible to my intended murderer. But he had fallen again into the sullen, brooding taciturnity which he had preserved all day, and did not even glance in my direction.
Thus we sat together till the slow hours had dragged themselves away, and the second night had fallen upon us in that awful situation. Then Mr Hesketh spoke again. ‘Carleton,’ he said, in a tone equally determined with any he had yet used, but not so expressive of hate and satire—‘Carleton, I am tired of this, and I think you have now suffered enough. Your hair, I have observed, has turned quite gray. I shall therefore put an end to your torture and my own sooner than I had intended. To-morrow morning, as soon as the gaping crowd below has re-assembled in sufficient numbers to give zest to the exhibition of our agility, we will take a leap together into their arms. Meantime, I purpose to spend this last night of my existence in sleep, and with this object shall now retire to the opposite side of our airy castle. Do not, however, delude yourself with the hope, which I fancy I detect in your quickened breathing. I am a light sleeper, having long been accustomed to sleep with one eye open, for fear of wild Indians, or worse; and at a touch, or even a movement on your part I should awake.’