Page 548 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

gleaming with hate and hunger, sat sentinel over the dwarf.
The dwarf, chuckling at his superior sagacity, clutched the
fatal axe. For two days they had not spoken to each other.
For two days each had promised himself that on the next
his companion must sleep—and die. Vetch comprehended
the devilish scheme of the monster who had entrapped five
of his fellow-beings to aid him by their deaths to his own
safety, and held aloof. Gabbett watched to snatch the weap-
on from his companion, and make the odds even once and
for ever. In the day-time they travelled on, seeking each a
pretext to creep behind the other. In the night-time when
they feigned slumber, each stealthily raising a head caught
the wakeful glance of his companion. Vetch felt his strength
deserting him, and his brain overpowered by fatigue. Sure-
ly the giant, muttering, gesticulating, and slavering at the
mouth, was on the road to madness. Would the monster
find opportunity to rush at him, and, braving the blood-
stained axe, kill him by main force? or would he sleep, and
be himself a victim? Unhappy Vetch! It is the terrible privi-
lege of insanity to be sleepless.
On the fifth day, Vetch, creeping behind a tree, takes off
his belt, and makes a noose. He will hang himself. He gets
one end of the belt over a bough, and then his cowardice
bids him pause. Gabbett approaches; he tries to evade him,
and steal away into the bush. In vain. The insatiable giant,
ravenous with famine, and sustained by madness, is not to
be shaken off. Vetch tries to run, but his legs bend under
him. The axe that has tried to drink so much blood feels
heavy as lead. He will fling it away. No—he dares not. Night