"Now I think we are ready. Stop a moment."

He reached across for the glass which I had emptied, took it up
gingerly between thumb and forefinger, and tossed it with a crash on
to the hearthstone. He then did the same to my pipe, after first
snapping the stem into halves. This done, he blew out one candle,
and with great gravity led the way down the staircase. I shouldered
the tools and followed, while my heart hated him with a fiercer spite
than ever.

We passed down the crazy stairs and through the kitchen. The candles
were still burning there. As my companion glanced at the
supper-table, "H'm," he said, "not a bad beginning of a new leaf.
My friend, I will allow you exactly twelve months in which to get
hanged."

I made no answer, and we stepped out into the night. The moon was
now up, and the high-road stretched like a white ribbon into the
gloom. The cold wind bore up a few heavy clouds from the north-west,
but for the most part we could see easily enough. We trudged side by
side along the road in silence, except that I could hear my companion
every now and then whistling softly to himself.

As we drew near to the Four Holed Cross and the scene of the murder I
confess to an uneasy feeling and a desire to get past the place with
all speed. But the lawyer stopped by the very spot where the coach
was overturned, and held up a finger as if to call attention. It was
a favourite trick of his with the jury.

"This was where the jeweller lay. Some fifteen yards off there was