that he had once made inquiries about the Chetwynde family
affairs; yet, in case of any serious alliance on their part, this of
itself would have been sufficient cause for his detention. Yet Obed
Chute had sent him off. What did that show? This, above all, that he
could not have any great purpose in connection with his friend.

Amidst all these thoughts his  were extreme. He lay there
fearful of pursuit, yet unable to move, distracted by  both of
body and mind. Time passed on, but his wordnetfear continued unabated. He
was excited and nervous. The  had brought on a deep physical
prostration, which deprived him of his usual self-possession. Every
moment he expected to see a gigantic figure in a dress-coat and a
broad-brimmed hat of Tuscan straw, with stern, relentless face and
gleaming eyes, striding along the road toward him, to seize him in a
resistless grasp, and send him to some awful fate; or, if not that,
at any rate to administer to him some tremendous blow, like that
catapultian , which would hurl him in an instant into oblivion.

The time passed by. He lay there in  and in wordnetfear.  and
 had disordered his brain. The constant wordnetfear of
danger made him watchful, and his distempered imagination