He
raised the axe to finish his work with a third blow, but Julia gave a
scream so piercing that his attention was diverted to her.
"Oh, Nosey," she said, "what are you doing to poor Baldy? You are
murdering him."
Nosey turned to his wife with upraised axe.
"Hold your jaw, woman, and keep quiet, or I'll do as much for you."
She said no more. She was tall and stout, had small, sharp, roving
eyes; and Nosey was a thick-set man, with a thin, prominent nose,
sunken eyes, and overhanging brows. He never had a prepossessing
appearance, and now his look and attitude were so ugly and fierce
that the big woman was completely cowed. The pair stood still for
some time, watching the last convulsive movements of the murdered
Baldy.
Nosey could now pride himself on having been "game to do his man,"
but he could not feel much glory in his work just yet. He had done
it without sufficient forethought, and his mind was soon full of
trouble.
Murder was worse than sheep stealing, and the consequences of his new
venture in crime began to crowd on his mind with frightful rapidity.
He had not even thought of any plan for hiding away the corpse. He
had no grave ready, and could not dig one anywhere in the
neighbourhood. The whole of the country round his hut was rocky--
little hills of bare bluestone boulders, and grassy hollows covered
with only a few inches of soil--rocks everywhere, above ground and
below.
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