"Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. The peculiar appearance of the sky was not without some influence in awakening these terrors. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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