Inch
by inch the ground beneath him was sliding from his feet; faster and
faster the encircling ruin contracted and contracted towards himself,
its wicked centre, until it should close in and crush him.
And now he heard the voice of his accomplice stating to his face,
with every circumstance of time and place and incident; and openly
proclaiming, with no reserve, suppression, passion, or concealment; all
the truth. The truth, which nothing would keep down; which blood
would not smother, and earth would not hide; the truth, whose terrible
inspiration seemed to change dotards into strong men; and on whose
avenging wings, one whom he had supposed to be at the extremest corner
of the earth came swooping down upon him.
He tried to deny it, but his tongue would not move. He conceived some
desperate thought of rushing away, and tearing through the streets; but
his limbs would as little answer to his will as his stark, stiff staring
face. All this time the voice went slowly on, denouncing him. It was as
if every drop of blood in the wood had found a voice to jeer him with.
When it ceased, another voice took up the tale, but strangely; for the
old clerk, who had watched, and listened to the whole, and had wrung his
hands from time to time, as if he knew its truth and could confirm it,
broke in with these words:
'No, no, no! you're wrong; you're wrong--all wrong together! Have
patience, for the truth is only known to me!'
'How can that be,' said his old master's brother, 'after what you have
heard? Besides, you said just now, above-stairs, when I told you of the
accusation against him, that you knew he was his father's murderer.
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