Frantic with alarm, it was but the work of
a moment to spring from his bed, and rush to the door, through a chink
of which, his eye nearly dimmed with affright he could watch
unsuspected whatever might be done in the adjoining room.
His fear vanished instantly when he perceived that it was only a _goat_
that they had been slaughtering; and he was about to steal into his bed
again, ashamed of his groundless apprehensions, when his ear was
arrested by a conversation which transfixed him aghast with terror to
the spot.
"This is an easier job than you had yesterday," said the man who held
the goat. "I wish all the throats we've cut were as easily and quietly
done. Did you ever hear such a noise as the old gentleman made last
night! It was well we had no neighbour within a dozen of miles, or they
must have heard his cries for help and mercy."
"Don't speak of it," replied the other; "I was never fond of
bloodshed,"
"Ha, ha!" said the other with a sneer, "you say so, do you?"
"I do," answered the first, gloomily; "the Murder Hole is the thing for
me--_that_ tells no tales--a single scuffle--a single plunge--and the
fellow's dead and buried to your hand in a moment. I would defy all the
officers in Christendom to discover any mischief _there_.
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