come your turn. Howanever, that will soon come aisy to you; a little
practice, and two or three opportunities of seeing the thing done, an'
you'll begin to take delight in it."

"And do you now?" asked the unsophisticated boy, with a quivering of the
voice which proceeded from a shudder.

"Why, no," replied the other, still in a whisper, for in this tone the
dialogue was necessarily continued; "not yet, at any rate; but if it
came my turn to take a life I should either do it, or lose my own some
fine night."

"Upon my conscience," whispered the lad, "I can't help thinkin' that
it's a bad business, and won't end well."

"Ay, but the general opinion is, that if we get the Millstone from about
our necks, a few lives taken on their side, and a few boys hanged on
ours, won't make much difference one way or other, and then everything
will end well. That's the way of it."

This muffled dialogue, if we may use the expression, was now interrupted
by a change in their route. At a Rath, which here capped an eminence of
the road, a narrow bridle-way diverged to the right, and after a gradual
ascent for about a mile and a half, was lost upon a rough upland, that
might be almost termed a moor. Here they halted for a few minutes, in
deliberation as to whether they should then proceed across the moor, or
wait until the moon should rise and enable them to see their way.

It was shortly resolved upon to advance, in order that they might lose
as little time as possible, in consequence of having, as it appeared,