"'For God's sake!' cried Tyrrell, with a tone of agonizing terror which
haunts me still, 'spare my life!'

"'It is too late,' said Thornton, deliberately, and taking the knife from
my hands, he plunged it into Sir John's side, and as the blade was too
short to reach the vitals, Thornton drew it backwards and forwards to
widen the wound. Tyrrell was a strong man, and still continued to
struggle and call out for mercy--Thornton drew out the knife--Tyrrell
seized it by the blade, and his fingers were cut through before Thornton
could snatch it from his grasp; the wretched gentleman then saw all hope
was over; he uttered one loud, sharp, cry of despair. Thornton put one
hand to his mouth, and with the other gashed his throat from ear to ear.

"'You have done for him, and for us now,' said I, as Thornton slowly rose
from the body. 'No,' replied he, 'look, he still moves;' and sure enough
he did, but it was in the last agony. However, Thornton, to make all
sure, plunged the knife again into his body; the blade came into contact
with a bone, and snapped in two; so great was the violence of the blow,
that instead of remaining in the flesh, the broken piece fell upon the
ground among the long fern and grass.

"While we were employed in searching for it: Thornton, whose ears were
much sharper than mine, caught the sound of a horse. 'Mount! mount,' he
cried; 'and let us be off.' We sprung up on our horses, and rode away as
fast as we could. I wished to go home, as it was so near at hand; but
Thornton insisted on making to an old shed, about a quarter of a mile
across the fields; thither, therefore, we went."

"Stop," said I, "what did Thornton do with the remaining part of the