It came from a dung fire, over which Waldo sat brooding.

Hour after hour he sat there, now and again throwing a fresh lump of fuel on to the fire, which burnt up bravely, and then sank into a great bed of red coals, which reflected themselves in the boy's eyes as he sat there brooding, brooding, brooding.

At last, when the fire was blazing at its brightest, he rose suddenly and walked slowly to a beam from which an ox riem hung.

Loosening it, he ran a noose in one end and then doubled it round his arm.
"Mine, mine! I have a right," he muttered; and then something louder, "if I fall and am killed, so much the better!" He opened the door and went out into the starlight.
He walked with his eyes bent upon the ground, but overhead it was one of those brilliant southern nights when every space so small that your hand might cover it shows fifty cold white points, and the Milky-Way is a belt of sharp frosted silver.

He passed the door where Bonaparte lay dreaming of Trana and her wealth, and he mounted the ladder steps.