Here the old woman turned round to look at the body, and her keen eyes immediately perceived that there was a slight change of position.

“Heh’” cried she, “not quite dead yet; we must have the hammer again,” and she rose from her chair, and walked with an unsteady pace to pick up the hammer, which was at the other side of the fire-place.  Smallbones, who felt that now was his time, immediately rose, but before he could recover his feet, she had turned round to him:  with a sort of low yell, she darted at him with an agility not to be imagined in one of her years and decrepit appearance, and struck at him.  Smallbones raised his left arm, and received the blow, and with his right plunged the bayonet deep into the wrinkled throat of the old woman.  She grappled with him, and the struggle was dreadful; she caught his throat in one of her bony hands, and the nails pierced into it like the talons of a bird of prey—­the fingers of the other she inserted into the jagged and gaping wound on his head, and forced the flesh still more asunder, exerting all her strength to force him on his back; but the bayonet was still in her throat, and with the point descending towards the body, and Smallbones forced and forced it down, till it was buried to the hilt.  In a few seconds the old hag loosed her hold, quivered, and fell back dead; and the lad was so exhausted with the struggle, and his previous loss of blood, that he fell into a swoon at the side of the corpse.

When Smallbones recovered, the candle was flickering in the socket.  He rose up in a sitting posture, and tried to recollect all that had passed.

The alternating light of the candle flashed upon the body of the old woman, and he remembered all.  After a few minutes he was able to rise, and he sat down upon the bed giddy and faint.  It occurred to him that he would soon be in the dark, and he would require the light to follow up his intended movements, so he rose, and went to the cupboard to find one.  He found a candle, and he also found the bottle of cordial, of which he drank all that was left, and felt himself revived, and capable of acting.  Having put the other candle into the candlestick, he looked for water, washed himself, and bound up his head with his handkerchief.  He then wiped up the blood from the floor, threw some sand over the part, and burnt the towel in the grate.  His next task was one of more difficulty, to lift up the body of the old woman, put it into the bed, and cover it up with the clothes, previously drawing out the bayonet.  No blood issued from the wound—­the hemorrhage was all internal.  He covered up the face, took the key of the door, and tried it in the lock, put the candle under the grate to burn out safely, took possession of the hammer; then having examined the door, he went out, locked it from the outside, slid the key in beneath the door, and hastened away as fast as he could.  He was not met by anybody, and was soon safe in the street, with the bayonet, which he again concealed in his vest.