from a superstitious man. I have been, perhaps, too much the reverse—too sceptical, too slow of belief; but unless I were one whom no amount of evidence could convince, unless I were to contemn the repeated, the perpetual evidence of my own senses, I am now—now at last constrained to believe—I have no escape from the conviction—the overwhelming certainty—that I am haunted and dogged, go where I may, by—by a demon!"
There was a preternatural energy of horror in Barton's face, as, with its damp and deathlike lineaments turned towards his companion, he thus delivered himself.
"God help you, my poor friend," said Dr. , much shocked, "God help you; for, indeed, you are a sufferer, however your sufferings may have been caused"
"Ay, ay, God help me," echoed Barton, sternly; "but will he help me—will he help me?"
