motionless, with his eyes vacantly fixed in this way for a minute or two; in that short space he was living through all his love again.
"She can't ha' done it," he said, still without moving his eyes, as if he were only talking to himself; "it was fear made her hide it . . . I forgive her for deceiving me . . . I forgive thee, Hetty . . . thee wast deceived too . . . it's gone hard wi' thee, my poor Hetty . . . but they'll never make me believe it."
He was silent again for a few moments, and then he said with fierce abruptness,
"I'll go to him—I'll bring him back—I'll make him go and look at her in her misery—he shall look at her till he can't forget it—it shall follow him night and day—as long as he lives it shall follow him—he shan't escape wi' lies this time—I'll fetch him, I'll drag him myself"
In the act of going towards the door, Adam paused automatically and looked about for his hat, quite unconscious where he was, or who was present with him. Mr Irwine had followed him, and now took him by the arm, saying, in a quiet but decided tone,
"No, Adam, no; I'm sure you will wish to stay
