“He certainly does,” the sergeant replied, as he again listened to the wild words of the man before him, pleading again with Bill Haines to keep back and not to choke him. He was certain now that the murderer he was seeking had been found, and that the search was ended.
“How long has Bill been talking like this?” he asked.
“Long tam, all day, mebbe. Bill velly seek. Bill die bimeby, eh?”
“Most likely,” was the reply. “Anyway, he’s worse than dead now. Isn’t it terrible to listen to him?” and he turned to the constable.
“Say, sergeant, he’s getting his hell now,” Rolfe replied. “It’s the mind that makes the torment. It was Satan in ‘Paradise Lost’ which said, ‘The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a hell of heaven.’ And who can doubt it after listening to the ravings of such a creature as that? Why, he’s living over again all the devilish things he has ever done. There he goes again about the murder of Bill Haines and his wife. Did you hear him speak about a ring? Look, he’s groping for something. What do you suppose it can be?”
“Perhaps he’s stolen one,” the sergeant suggested. “But, stay; do you suppose a ring was the cause of that murder? If so, he may have it somewhere about him. Give me a light, and let me examine him.”
In another minute a candle was lighted which enabled them to see much better. The pockets of the raving man were searched, and from one the sergeant at length brought forth the ring, and held it up for inspection. The diamond gleamed beneath the rays of light and fascinated the eyes of the beholders.
“Isn’t it a beauty!” the constable exclaimed. “What
