And he would have murdered me.

But he is mad--stark, staring mad!" There could be no doubt of it.

Old McIntyre was sitting up now, and burst suddenly into a hoarse peal of laughter, rocking himself backwards and forwards, and looking up at them with little twinkling, cunning eyes.

It was clear to both of them that his mind, weakened by long brooding over the one idea, had now at last become that of a monomaniac.
His horrid causeless mirth was more terrible even than his fury.
"What shall we do with him ?" asked Haw.

"We cannot take him back to Elmdene.