It all flashed upon him
now, and he saw himself starting back at the sound of the voice.
Slowly he got up now, went to the door, and opened it. "My lord, it is
not true," he said. "You have not spoken like a gentleman. It was my
lady's voice that saved me. This is my castle, my lord--you lodge
yonder." He pointed down into the darkness where the lights of the
village shone. "I owe you nothing. I pay my debts. Pay yours, my lord, to
him that's beyond and away."
Eglington kept his countenance as he drew on his great-coat and slowly
passed from the house.
"I ought to have let you die, Soolsby. Y'ou'll think better of this soon.
But it's quite right to leave the matter to me. It may take a little
time, but everything will come right. Justice shall be done. Well, good
night, Soolsby. You live too much alone, and imagination is a bad thing
for the lonely. Good night-good night."
Going down the hill quickly, he said to himself: "A sort of second sight
he had about that wire. But time is on my side, time and the Soudan--and
'The heathen in his blindness.
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